


Survivor

by mayonaka_no_sasayaki



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fem!Sena - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Genderbending, Slice of Life, Sports, fem sena, female sena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayonaka_no_sasayaki/pseuds/mayonaka_no_sasayaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her haste to be on time for her high school entrance exam, Kobayakawa Sena unknowingly sealed her fate when she ran past a certain demonic quarterback. FEM!Sena</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or its characters.
> 
> Author Note: Greetings, everyone! This is my first ever Eyeshield 21 fanfiction, so please regard me kindly and I hope you will enjoy it! Before we start, I would like to give my thanks and appreciation to cheshirejin, Kirorokat and Mel's Merleawe for being my betas for this story. Thank you so much! I couldn't have done this without you three guiding me along.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! And please don't forget to review because I would like to know what you guys think!

 

* * *

**SURVIVOR**

By

Mayonaka no Sasayaki

 

* * *

"Hiiiiiiee~!"

Running down the street at breakneck speed, Kobayakawa Sena frantically races against the clock so as to be on time for her high school entrance exams that, unsurprisingly, she's late for.

_'Come on...!'_  picking up her pace, Sena charges forward directly into a crowded street, weaving and avoiding several pedestrians with practiced ease, an act that cause a chorus of confused yelps and indignant shouts before the girl bursts out from the crowd in an explosive sprint. She then disappears around a corner with a sharp turn, leaving behind a bemused crowd and one set of wide, green eyes staring after her.

Shaking out of their stupor, the crowd is about to continue on with their lives before a loud, maniacal laugh slice through the air. Curious, some of them turn their attention to the hunched form of a laughing teenager in bewilderment before paling and making a hasty retreat when they recognize the telltale features of the resident demon, terrified for their lives if they stay any longer than what's strictly necessary.

As his laughter dies down into the occasional cackle, Hiruma Yōichi straightens up to quickly follow the girl with the golden legs, eyes bright with calculative glee and a determined purpose to his steps.

It seems like he has some work to do.

* * *

Tracking down the girl is easy enough when he realizes she's heading towards his high school. All he needs to do now is to see if this girl has what it takes to make it on the team. Grinning his signature fanged grin, Hiruma makes himself comfortable on his chosen perch on a nearby tree branch, binoculars in hand. Spotting the incoming girl, Hiruma zooms in.

_'Huh, scrawny little brat isn't she?'_

With his eyes firmly on his binoculars he takes careful note of the sprinting teen, filing minute details of the girl that could possibly be the catalyst of the Devil Bats in his mind.

Besides her run, the girl isn't anything extraordinary. A petit figure with long brown hair tied into a low ponytail with big brown eyes. She's not ugly but she isn't the pretty type that you'd typically find in other high school girls, either. In fact, the brat is just  _normal_. Although, one can argue she'd fall into the cute category, but who the hell cares. He's only interested in what those golden legs of hers can do.

As if on cue, the brat increases her speed when she sees her destination insight from a dash to a full blown sprint that's so striking, Hiruma is hard pressed not to let his grin splits his face.

It's gonna be a close one though. Since from the look of things, time's almost up; what with the school gate closing as the seconds tick by. Steadying himself on his perch, Hiruma leans forward in anticipation; the brat is almost at the end zone.

_'Just a few more yards. C'mon brat.'_

As if sensing his thoughts, the girl's eyes widens in panic before narrowing in resolve. If Hiruma thought the brat's previous speed was impressive, this new momentum is fucking  _gorgeous_. In a series of sharp turns and spins, the brat bypasses the last few pedestrians with a speed born out of desperation.

_'With those legs of yours, you can do it.'_

Just a few feet and the girl has the balls to actually launch herself into a fucking  _dive_ , landing in an ungraceful heap on the snow covered ground as the school gate closes behind her.

Removing his binoculars, Hiruma stares at the brunette that's quickly making her way into the school building, all the while bowing and apologizing profusely to the concerned school guard for her daring actions. She did it. The fucking brat actually did it. It was official.

Drawing up his breath, Hiruma screams.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

He finally found his fucking running back.

YA-HA!

* * *

She's done it. After weeks of studying and tutoring —courtesy of her Mamori-neechan—, Kobayakawa Sena is finally done with her entrance exams. All she can do now is hope that she'll be able to get into her school of choice.

Sighing in apparent relief, the 3rd year middle schooler took one last glance at Deimon High, a wistful smile on her face,  _'It'd be great if I can get in to the same high school as Mamori-neechan.'_

Wrapping herself securely with her scarf, Sena begins her quiet trek home, or at least, that's the plan, before an unseen hand roughly drags her into a nearby alley. In a matter of moments Sena finds herself bound and gagged on the cold ground so fast, she didn't even have a chance to scream. When her head finally clears, she pales when she finally gets a good look at her assailant.

A tall teenaged boy that looks slightly older than her leans casually against the brick alley wall, looking absolutely  _demonic_. Sharp pointy ears, intelligent green eyes and a head of messy bleached blond hair framing a handsome yet devilish face, the boy makes quite an impression. But what frightens her most of all is the maniacal fanged grin the demonic teen is sporting. Pushing himself off the wall, the blond saunters up to her in a predatory gait, grin widening the closer the boy gets to her frozen self.

Stopping in front of her, Hiruma crouches down to level a stare at the terrified form of his future running back.

"Afternoon," he purrs.

Squeaking behind her gag, Kobayakawa squirms unsuccessfully against her restraints to somehow put some form of distance between them only to stop with a flinch when he whacks the girl on the head. "Stop that. You're gonna fucking hurt yourself if you keep doing that," he says with a growl.

Doing as she was told, the girl fearfully looks up at him. "Good. Now let me be the first to congratulate you on your acceptance into Deimon High, Kobayakawa Sena." Seeing the hint of confusion in fearful brown eyes, he lets out a gleeful cackle, scaring the girl even further.

"We don't have time to waste for lengthy explanations so I'll make it brief," he says, signature grin stretching across his face. "You passed your exams. Which means, you're now officially a student of Deimon High and because of that, we're gonna enroll you into our American Football club a few months early, got it?"

Shaking her head to free her mouth from the loose gag, Sena stutters confusedly at the crazy blond. "B-but that's impossible. I just f-finished my exams o-only a few minutes ago! There's no w-way I can get my results t-this fast. And there's no w-way I could ever play American Football, I d-don't even know how!"

Smirking, the older teen leans in close to her. "Not important. And the fact you're a newbie in American Football is why we're starting early fucking chibi."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she fearfully stutters out her question, "U-um, start what?"

The response she gets is disheartening, however, when the older teen responds by letting out another one of his maniacal cackles. Wearing a particularly vicious grin, the blond sweeps her over his shoulder in one swift motion, cutting off her loud squeak by quickly shoving the gag back in place before heading towards their destination.

"Training."


	2. Turning Gears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sena's life just took a turn for the crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.
> 
> Special thanks: To my wonderful betas cheshirejin, Kirorokat and Mel's Merleawe.
> 
> Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

* * *

**TURNING GEARS**

* * *

 

It's funny how one's life can shoot straight to hell if given the chance. Unfortunately for Sena, that seems to be the case right now, as the blond demon carries her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes to who knows where.

It doesn't escape her notice that whenever someone sees them passing by, they quickly look away. Their fear for the crazy teenager clear in their eyes.

_'I knew I shouldn't have gone to the exams alone.'_  Sniffing pitifully, she timidly glances at her captor.

While that unnerving grin is now a slight smirk, it doesn't lessen the intimidation factor. In fact there's now an intense, gleeful gleam in his sharp eyes that somehow makes her situation seem even worse.

Is she going to be killed? Tortured?

…..Sacrificed?

At that thought, she freezes. Something like that wouldn't happen in this day and age, right? But considering her current unfavorable situation, her chances for survival are quite slim.

No.

_Nononono_

She didn't want to die! Not now! Not like this!

THUMP

Groaning in pain after being unceremoniously drop to the ground, she opens her eyes to see what looks to be a field. Beyond that is a familiar looking school building.

_'Deimon?'_

An excited shout calls out from across the field. "Hiruma!"

Blinking in mounting confusion, a very large teenager wearing some form of gear makes his way to them. "You're here! I came here as fast as I could when you said we have a new member for the team! I'm so excited!"

"Tch, keep it down fucking fatass!" Giving the excitable giant a swift kick to the rear, Hiruma turns to regard the still frozen girl with a bloodthirsty grin, brandishing an AK-47, pressing it against her forehead. "Listen here, fucking chibi! From now on, you're a part of the Deimon Devil Bats team! Understand?!"

She frantically nods her head.

Grinning wide, Hiruma removes the gun (which she doesn't know is actually unloaded) and tosses a look over to the other teen. "Oi, fucking fatass."

"Leave it to me, Hiruma!" Crouching down, the seemingly friendly giant unties her, a kind smile on his face, reassuring her.

Smiling nervously at the beaming giant, she pulls the gag away from her mouth. Despite her fear and wariness, she gives into her curiosity, "Thank you, um…?"

Blinking in confusion, before realization sets in, "Oh, my name is Kurita Ryōkan. Nice to meet you!" the gian-no, Kurita introduces himself as he bows, a heartfelt grin on his face. She allows herself to relax. It's probably safe now with Kurita here.

Pointing to the crazy, gun-totting blond behind him, Kurita's smile turns apologetic. "That's my best friend, Hiruma Yōichi. I'm really sorry for all the trouble he caused you."

Arranging herself into a seiza position, she bows in return. "Kobayakawa Sena. It's very nice to meet you, too, Kurita-san."

Diverting her gaze from the now identified Hiruma, she bows politely to the cackling blond. "Um, nice to meet you, Hiruma-san."

"Kekekeke."

Gesturing helplessly at the field, she whispers pleadingly to Kurita. "Do I really have to play rugby, Kurita-san?"

Kurita seems sympathetic at her plight and looks like he's about to console her until a single bullet whizzes pass their ears with a deafening  _bang_.

"Don't even think of letting her off the hook, fucking fatass!" Hiruma snarls before turning his attention to her, "And you!"

"Hieee!" She screams when Hiruma points his gun at her. "First rule. Don't mistake two different sports fucking chibi! This is American Football!  _Not_ rugby!"

"Y-yes sir!"

"Good, now let's test that run of yours."

Beckoning her to follow him, Hiruma makes his way up the steps to head towards what she can only assume to be the American Football clubhouse. She quickly follows with Kurita not far behind.

Kicking the door open to the small worn down shed of a clubhouse, Hiruma, with his gun balance comfortably over his shoulder, strides briskly into the messy interior with a single-minded purpose. Opening one of the lockers, he pulls out one of his old extra uniforms from middle school.

Throwing it to her, Hiruma sternly orders, "Go change. And don't even think about running away because we'll be waiting right outside. Got it, fucking chibi?"

"Y-yes, Hiruma-san," she steps inside the clubhouse before Hiruma slams the door shut behind her. Releasing her breath in a loud whoosh, she surveys the messy clubhouse in curiosity.

Small, cramped, and looking like it could barely even hold two, let alone three members of the team, the clubhouse was a mess full of papers, bright red uniforms, and American Football gear.

Not a place a girl would usually find herself in.

Still, here she is. Forced to play a sport that she doesn't even know how to play much less be good at. Slumping in defeat, she stares morosely down at the uniform in her arms, wondering how the day could've turn out this way.

_'What did I get myself into?'_

* * *

"Hiruma?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think she can do it? Is Sena-chan's run really that fast?"

His friend, leaning casually beside the clubhouse door, throws a grin at him, "We'll just have to wait and see, fucking fatass," states the quarterback cryptically.

Still unsure, Kurita is about to question Hiruma again until the clubhouse door slides open and the subject of their conversation steps out. They look curiously at the flustered teen.

Hiruma in particular, steps forward to circle around the girl, eyes critical in their assessment.

Gone was the brat's middle school uniform and in its place is their Deimon Devil Bats bright red uniform. Although, it seems like the size is a bit bigger than he thought.

Tugging the girl forward, Hiruma, unconcerned of the girl's frightened stuttering and blushing from their close proximity, arranges the uniform into something a bit more practical.

_'We need to order a proper uniform soon. Damn, she's small,'_  stepping back to survey his work, he shakes his head with a sigh, "It'll have to do for now. Lets go!"

Trotting behind the quarterback and with Kurita to her right, Sena nervously bites her bottom lip. This wasn't how she imagined her day to turn out.

So lost in her thoughts, she runs face first into the quarterback's chest when he turns around to face her. Yelping in surprise, she bows her head in apology to Hiruma, who ignores it. The quarterback instead leers menacingly down at her before handing her a stopwatch.

"We'll start by timing our runs, it's been a while after all," pointing to the side of the field, Hiruma explains, "Fucking fatass and I will go first so you better pay attention. After that—" here the quarterback gives a fanged grin, "It'll be your turn, got it fucking chibi?" he gets his answer in the form of an affirmative squeak as she scrambles to the side, stopwatch at the ready. Kurita, too, made his way to the starting point.

Grinning, the demonic teen brings out a long bazooka with one hand while pressing the other to the side of his face, covering his ear.

At a nod from Kurita, Hiruma aims the firearm towards the sky.

"Ready, set!"

BOOM!

With a grunt, Kurita runs past her. Clicking the stopwatch, she looks curiously at the recorded time.

Bazooka slung over his shoulder, Hiruma strides up to her. "Well?"

Shifting the face of the watch slightly, showing the time to the awaiting quarterback. "Kurita Ryōkan-san, 6.5 seconds," she states before flinching back in fear when Hiruma lets loose an annoyed growl.

Her fear however is unfounded when Hiruma directed his anger at his giant friend.

"The hell are you doing, fucking fatass?! That's slower than the last time!" yells the irate blond, kicking repeatedly at the lineman while she looks on helplessly, a sweat drop at the back of her head.

_'Should this really be considered normal?'_

Chewing her bottom lip, she takes a quick look at her surroundings before glancing at the two boys, lost in whatever discussion –lecture?—they're having.

_'Maybe this is my chance?'_

Taking a cautious few steps back she turns to make her escape only to freeze halfway when she feels a nozzle press against her spine followed by the ominous click of a revolver.

"And where do you think you're going, fucking chibi?" Hiruma asks, voice pitched low in a dangerous drawl, a grin to match.

Slowly, she looks back at the looming blond, body paralyzed with fear.

"I was j-just, that i-is I was a-about to—" she's then forcefully turn to face the grinning blond demon.

"You were about to  _what_ , fucking chibi?" an arm slings tight around her shoulder, stopping any attempts for freedom.

Hiruma grins down at her, holding his revolver to the side so its in plain view for her to see. She lets out a squeak and immediately gets the message. "N-nothing!"

"Hm~"

While Hiruma continues to scrutinize her, she thinks furiously for a way to appease the annoyed blond only to come out with nothing except for the obvious option. She suppose it wouldn't hurt to at least try. Besides, once the boys see for themselves on how unfitting she is for American football, she'll be home free.

Gulping, she carefully raises her arms in a placating gesture. "I-I promise Hiruma-san. No running away."

Whatever the quarterback sees in her expression seems to satisfy him because a moment later, he steps back from their close - too close, very much too close, her mind screams - proximity but leaves his arm around her shoulder, long fingers pressing her upper arm in warning.

Resigned, she allows herself to be led back on the field. She takes comfort at the sympathetic smile on Kurita's face though, who seems to be just as resigned at his friend's violent tendencies. She's soon ripped away from her thoughts when Hiruma shoves the stopwatch that she dropped in her haste back into her hands.

"My turn. Let me show you how it's done," Hiruma grins.

Nodding her head, she makes her way to the side.

"Get ready!" Blinking in surprise, she looks up from the stopwatch to see that Hiruma is already at the starting point.

_'When did he get there?'_

With a shake of her head (because she's starting to think there really is no use questioning things where the blond is concerned) she nods. A cackle, and he's off.

"YA—"

It's only for a few seconds but in that moment the devilish look on the blond's features is pushed back, as something more focused and intense replaces it. It makes the older teen even more intimidating—if that's even possible.

"—HA!"

With a click and a glance down at the stopwatch, she states the time aloud, "Hiruma Yōichi-san, 5.1 seconds."

"Ya-ha! My best record yet!" And there it is, the devilish persona back in its rightful place.

Frowning, she stares quizzically at Hiruma and Kurita. Was she seeing things?

What is it about this sport that, though temporarily, is able to temper Hiruma into something other than a terrifying demon?

No. It's not just Hiruma.

She turns to Kurita, who's chatting excitably with the demonic blond. Though slow in the 40-yard dash, the moment Kurita stepped onto the field, while still sweet, had that same intensity in his eyes, too.

In spite of herself, she can't help but be curious about this violent sport that although brief, can invoke such a change in the two boys.  _'But, why American Football?'_

Hiruma brought her here because he's somehow impressed by her run, and though she might not understand the significance as to why a run can be so important to the point she'd be kidnapped, there's no curbing her curiosity to at least understand. "Why are we doing this?"

When she catches the two boys staring at her, she realizes belatedly that she voiced her question out loud. Flushing a deep red and inwardly cursing her curiosity, she hastens to explain when Hiruma raises a brow at her. "I mean, why are we timing our runs? Are runs really that amazing in American Football?"

A shared look passes between the two boys.

Kurita smiles. Hiruma cackles.

And Sena...well, Sena feels like she dug her own grave.

"Oh? Finally starting to show interest, fucking chibi?"

"I—"

"Then, you better listen up brat," the fanged teen then nods at Kurita, who beams.

Gently grabbing her shoulders, the sweet-tempered giant points at the far end of the field, "Okay, Sena-chan, in American Football, you score points by getting the ball to your opponent's end zone, earning us six points. This is what we call a touchdown."

Staring up at Kurita for a moment, she shifts her attention to the vast expanse of the field. Nodding to show her understanding, she tilts her head slightly in thought, the first sign of attentiveness since she was first brought here. "So to score, you have to run?"

"Yup! Ah, but that's not the only way to score though! You see, you can—"

"Save that for later, fucking fatass. After all, we've got plenty of time to cover the basics later," Hiruma interrupts with a sharp grin.

Before she can complain, the quarterback takes over the explanation as he too looks at the field. "In runs, for average players it's about five seconds. You can say the five second barrier is the difference between an average player and a sprinter."

"Five seconds?"

"Yeah, exactly five seconds," breaking his gaze to stare down at her, Hiruma's grin widens just the slightest bit. "But if a high school student can do it in 4.8 seconds, they can go anywhere."

"I see…" she mutters thoughtfully. Unknowingly, her mounting interest further seals her fate.

Above her, the two boys share a grin, albeit, Kurita's has traces of guilt for what awaits her.

"By the way," Hiruma drawls, feeling pleased when he catches Sena's attention just by his voice. Good, the brat's showing more interest by the second.

If nothing else, the girl's surprising curiosity would make sure she'd stay. "High school's fastest guy is Shin Seijuurou with a record of 4.4 seconds."

"Eh?" exclaims Sena, surprised. When she didn't see anything that could contradict his statement, the girl scratches her head, genuinely impressed.

"Now that you know, let's start." He snatches the stopwatch from Sena, startling the girl from her thoughts. The girl then pales, frantically waving her hands as his words finally sinks in.

"Eh?! Wait, Hiruma-san, I can't—" panicking, Sena tries to back away from his steady approach.

"What was that? You really want to run that badly? Great!" He grabs the whimpering brunette by back of her collar and hauls her right to the starting point.

"Stay until I give you the signal, fucking chibi." Sena nods fearfully at the order.

Making his way back, he tosses the stopwatch to Kurita who frantically catches the device. Crossing his arms, he looks at the petite girl,"…She might be it."

"Eh?"

"It's possible to overcome the five second wall with those legs," he clarifies, a thoughtful frown replacing his usual grin.

"Are you sure?" Kurita looks at Sena with a concern frown. "I mean; can Sena-chan really do it? Is it that easy to beat the time? Isn't that asking too much?"

Rubbing a hand behind his neck, he can't really fault his friend for his concern. If he hadn't been there himself, he'd be doubtful, too. "Well…Just watch and you'll see," he says with a sigh.

Snapping his attention back at the awaiting brunette, he readies his bazooka. "Ready…"

BOOM!

Pushing forward, Sena sprints past the waiting the boys in record time, to the delight of Kurita, who happily shows his joy to her.

"Kobayakawa Sena-chan, five seconds exactly!" Kurita exclaims as he happily waves the stopwatch in the air.

Seems like Kurita's joy is contagious as Sena too grins in delight. She makes her way to the happy lineman to see the recorded time herself. "Wow…"

Their joy is short live however, when the demon quarterback hums behind them. "Kobayakawa Sena, ranked no.1 in her year for the side step drill for her middle school physical fitness tests," he flatly lists off from what Sena can only assume to be information about her from a laptop. Hold on—

"How in the world did you—"

"You've built up your speed by running errands, that's how you have your rocket start." Taking out what seem to be a packet of dog biscuits, Hiruma scrutinizes her. "But then your speed slows down right away, which prevented you from setting a record."

Taking out a lone biscuit, the blond gestures for her to come closer. Complying, she looks on in mounting confusion as Hiruma slides the biscuit down at the back of her shirt.  _'What the…?'_

"Essentially, you just need to maintain that speed." When a maniacal grin appears on Hiruma's face, it causes a chill to go down her spine.

"CERBERUS!"

Alarm bells rings inside her head as her ears picks up the pitter-patter of paws before they skid to a stop behind her. Heart thumping a mile a minute, she feels her instincts cry out for her to  _runrunrun_. Slowly, she turns around to face a small, brown, demonic looking dog.

A pitiful whimper breaks past her lips.

Staring up at her, the dog from hell reveals its sharp, black claws before launching itself at her with a loud, deafening roar.

A heartbeat later then—

She  _runs._

"HIIIEEE!"

While Sena panics, Hiruma takes back the stopwatch from Kurita as he calls out in worry for the terrified girl. Carefully observing the chase, Hiruma times the still running brunette when she reaches the right amount of distance. A glance down at the stopwatch, he feels unbridled glee as the allotted numbers stares back at him.

"YA-HA!"

He quickly grabs Kurita's shoulder and shows him the recorded time, "See!  _This_  is her real speed!"

"4.2 seconds?!" Kurita gasps in awed disbelief. He looks up in amazement at Sena who's nothing more than a pitiful heap on the ground now. On top of her, Cerberus munches happily on his treat.  _'Oh dear,'_  he sweatdrops at the sight.

A cackle brought his attention back to the still gleefully grinning quarterback as he randomly shoots his guns around the field, "She fucking broke the high school record! It's the speed in the NFL, no one can stop  _that!_ "

He smiles at best friend's obvious joy then quickly makes his way to Sena. Thankfully Cerberus is used to his presence by now so he gently shoos him off of the whimpering brunette. The dog complies with only a slight growl before happily trotting away with his treat.

Gently, so as to not startle Sena any further, he guides her into a sitting position while dusting off the dirt and dust from her clothes. He faintly hears the repeated mumbles of 'Demon dog' from the girl whose eyes are still spinning from fear and dizziness.

Sadly, it's a normal reaction whenever his blond friend is involved, he thinks with a guilty, sympathetic smile. Extending his hand to the girl, he kindly offers, "I'm really sorry about what just happened, Sena-chan. I know it's not much but how about I treat you to some cake and tea?"

"Eh?" That seems to snap the girl out.

Glancing up, Sena hesitantly nods, finding it hard to refuse the sweet tempered giant. Grabbing the offered hand, she stands shakily back onto her feet. Still paranoid, she checks for any signs of the demon dog only to sigh in relief when she found none.

Although, she sweatdrops when a glance to the side proves another sort of demon is still present who's rapidly typing away at a nearby bench, grin ever present.

With a final click, the blond shuts his laptop closed. Suddenly, the quarterback glances at them with unholy glee causing her to squeak in fear, backpedaling into Kurita.

Grinning at her discomfort, Hiruma quickly gather his things. Hefting a rather large duffle, he turns to address them. "Since we confirmed that the fucking chibi is the real deal, we can get down to business. Fucking fatass!"

"Yeah?"

"We still got a few hours left. I don't care how you do it; just teach the fucking chibi the basics of the game. Don't waste any time, got it?"

Kurita bounces from where he stands at the order, excited. "You got it, Hiruma! You can count on me!"

"Good. Fucking chibi!"

"Y-yes?"

"Stay and listen. Don't even think of running away," Hiruma warns with menacing grin. She nods fervently at the quarterback.

"But where are you going, Hiruma?" Kurita asks.

"Me? I'm gonna set up the proper preparations of course," Hiruma gives one last cackle before leaving the field.

Blinking at the sudden departure, she shares a glance with Kurita. Grinning happily down at her, Kurita points at the general direction of the clubhouse. "Shall we, Sena-chan?"

There's no way she can refuse Kurita of all people or Hiruma for that matter. Holding back a sigh, she tentatively smiles back at the lineman. "Sure, Kurita-san."

Not far from them, Hiruma stands in thoughtful silence. He looks at the two teens, gaze settling on Sena in particular. After a moment, he turns away, walking towards the school. More specifically, the faculty office since he figures they should have what he requested by now.

* * *

It's a well-known fact within Deimon High School that one should never cross a certain Hiruma Yōichi lest you'd find yourself on the wrong end of a certain little black book.

It doesn't matter who you are. Male, female, student or teacher, absolutely no one is spared. In fact, Kawahira Aota, a teacher for Deimon for the past decade, can attest to that fact with frightening clarity seeing as the rumored demon is currently leaning against the side of his desk, reading one of the registry forms for one Kobayakawa Sena with a distant sort of interest.

Kawahira isn't sure of the exact reason, but when Hiruma Yōichi suddenly came barging in to the faculty room with his customary gun slung over his shoulder, demanding to know the name of one of the examinees, well, he couldn't very well deny him.

Thankfully, it wasn't really all that hard to track down the student once the blond showed him a picture of a plain, timid looking brown haired girl. Once they verified the girl as Kobayakawa Sena, a fifteen-year-old from Deimon Middle School, Hiruma demanded her submissions to be reviewed first.

By the time the students completed all of the required tests, the teachers finished evaluating the girl who unfortunately caught the interest of the demon quarterback. He'd been patiently waiting at the faculty room to hear about the girl's results.

When they confirmed that Kobayakawa Sena had indeed passed the entrance exams, the blond let out a loud, gleeful cackle before striding out of the room without a word, allowing those in the faculty to breath a sigh of relief.

However, they relaxed too soon because Hiruma came back to the faculty room barely two hours later, demanding to have all of Kobayakawa's official forms to be drawn up and handed over to him. Fearfully, they complied.

Kawahira really can't understand why Kobayakawa could ever be of interest for the devious blond. While she passed, her grades are only slightly above average. So, what is it about this girl that Hiruma Yōichi would be interested in?

"Well?" drawls the awaiting quarterback, not even looking up from his reading.

Or maybe it would be best for his peace of mind that he doesn't know what Hiruma has in store.

Kawahira clears his throat slightly then hands over the last of the paperwork to the fanged teen, careful to not make any eye contact. "H-here you are, Hiruma-kun. Everything's all set…Um, a-anything else?"

"Nope, that would be all. Good work, sensei." Hiruma pushes off the desk and left the faculty room without a backward glance. His signature cackle echoes in his wake.

Almost immediately, everyone inside the room sags in relief. That's how much of an effect Hiruma has on people. Wiping his sweaty forehead, Kawahira knows he's not the only one praying for the safety of one Kobayakawa Sena. After all, her high school life just gotten much worse and it hasn't even  _started_  yet.

_'May kami-sama help her.'_

* * *

A few hours pass by with Kurita teaching the reluctant Sena – who changed back into her school uniform – about the basics of American Football. There were times Sena wants to interrupt in hopes of telling the older teen that she doesn't want to be in the American Football club. Then realizes she couldn't. Not after seeing how happy the center lineman is as he continues to talk, stars in his eyes.

And try as she might, she can't help but hang on to the center's every word as Kurita shares his obvious love for the sport. It helps that Kurita explains in simple and easy terms so she can understand, reluctant as she may be.

Halfway through the lessons, Hiruma rejoined them; thankfully this time without causing too much stress for her already frayed nerves. And much to her surprise, when Hiruma isn't cackling away to accomplish one of his schemes, the blond can be a very good teacher.

She feels a bit of her reluctance fade away as she continues listening to the two boys. True, she still thinks American Football is a very scary sport, what with the players tackling each other and whatnot, but it's somehow nice. To do the things you loved no matter what it may be. Different from her, now that she thinks about it.

A glance at the overhead clock cuts short any other deep thoughts though. "The time!"

"Wow, it's already this late? Ah, Sena-chan wait up!" Kurita walks over to her, a pile of books in his arms.

"Yes, Kurita-san?" coat on and lightly jogging in place, she tugs her bag haphazardly on one shoulder.

Extending the books, the center smiles. "Here are some books that might be able to help you understand more about American Football. Don't worry, I picked the simple ones, too!"

She hesitantly smiles back at the happy giant. Briefly, she thought of politely refusing the offer but one look at the grinning blond standing beside Kurita has her hastily accept the books. "T-thank you, Kurita-san."

Excusing herself with a bow, she shuts the clubhouse door behind her.

Turning sharply at a corner, she suddenly finds herself on the ground, feeling as if she ran into something.

Or make that into  _someone_  when she spots a small heavyset boy rubbing his considerably big nose to soothe the pain.

' _Today is just not my day,'_  groaning internally, she gingerly picking herself up. Extending a hand, she smiles in apology. "I'm really sorry about that. Are you alright?"

The only response she gets is a nod and grunt as the boy takes the proffered hand, righting himself up. Seeing that the boy to be all right, she crouches down to pick up her fallen books. The boy joining her even as she tries to wave him away.

Shoving the books into her bag, she bows in thanks to the boy before running out of the school courtyard, leaving behind a confused Komusubi Daikichi in her wake.

Blinking bemusedly at the odd girl, Komusubi looks down at one of the books the girl forgotten in her haste. 'American Football for Beginners' written in blocky and brightly colored Japanese stares back at him.

American Football? What's a girl doing with a book about an American sport?

No, no.

He shouldn't stick his nose where it doesn't belong. It would be unmanly. After all, he came back to the school because he forgot his pencil case. Still, he cant help but be a bit curious though.

_'American Football, huh?'_

* * *

Throwing herself face first onto her bed, Sena groans loudly into her pillow. Rolling on to her back, she stares blankly at her ceiling, thinking back to the day's events.

After coming back home, she trudged up to her room while fielding concerned questions from her parents. She gave the excuse that there was some things she had to do at the school then pleaded them to ask questions later.

Her parents caved in when they saw how worn out she was, sending her up with promises that her mother would bring her dinner to her after she'd taken her bath.

Grateful, she did as she was told.

So she bathed and ate her dinner and now, staring up at her bedroom ceiling, she wonders about her very strange day.

Honestly, the only thing she thought she had to worry about today was her entrance exams! Not American Football! Heck, she even accidently brought home the borrowed jersey too! What sort of day  _was_  this?

She shakes her head to dispel her pitiful thoughts.  _'It's been a long day, I'll think about it more tomorrow.'_

"Sena!"

Sitting up at the call of her name, she answers back, a hand rubbing drowsily at her eyes. "Yes, kaa-chan?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Can you come down for a minute, please?"

"Okay, kaa-chan!" Pushing herself off of her bed, she made her way down to the entryway of the living room where both of her parents are waiting for her

Who both seem to be happily looking over some sort of document?

Shuuma, her father, smiles proudly upon seeing her. "Ah, there you are, Sena. I believe congratulations are in order, isn't that right, Mihae?"

"Right you are, dear!" her mother happily clapped her hands, giving her a tight hug. "Congratulations, Sena!"

"Eh? Congratulations?"

"Why, for passing your exams of course! And for your first school of choice too!"

Her eyes widen at that. After today's events, she forgot that she was told that she passed. "Oh yeah, I guess I did…"

Wait, she didn't tell them about that so how—

"How did you find out?"

"Ah, well, that's because one of your senpai came all the way here to hand us your forms and results," her father answers.

Her mind screeched to a halt at that. Senpai…?

Looking over her mother's shoulder, she realizes with a chill that there's one other occupant in the room with her parents, unnoticed because of her fatigue.

Said occupant is a very familiar demonic blond, nonchalantly drinking tea. In her living room. Kami-sama have mercy upon her.

Hiruma Yōichi is in her house.

"We know it must've been a long day for you, sweetheart. But at least tell us the good news! It's a reason to celebrate after all!" her mother chides, oblivious to the fact that she's having a meltdown in her mother's arms because of their unexpected guest.

"Thank you for taking the trouble to tell us the good news, Hiruma-kun," her father says to Hiruma who only smiles – _smiles?!_  – politely back at the older man. Her mind short circuits at the impossible sight.

"It's no trouble at all, Kobayakawa-san. Since we're a little short handed this year because of the slight change of system for the exams, I thought I'd be doing a favor for my teachers by handing the papers over myself," comes the modest reply from the crazy quarterback, who besides his appearance, had the air of a polite, mild-mannered senpai.

Which he's most certainly not!

"That's so thoughtful of you, Hiruma-kun. My, what a dependable senpai you have, Sena!" laughed Mihae.

_'That's not it! That's not who he is at all, tou-chan, kaa-chan!'_  she wails silently in her head.

"Since it's getting late, I thinks it's best that I take my leave since I still have some things to settle. Thank you for your time and hospitality." Smiling, Hiruma stands to sketch a quick, polite bow to her parents.

"Nonsense, we should be thanking you for coming all the way here. Please do come back anytime you can, Hiruma-kun. It's comforting to know that Sena already has a senpai looking out for her," her mother implores to the chuckling quarterback, gently straighten out the teen's blazer.

She pales at the invitation.  _'Kaa-chan…!'_

"You're too kind, Kobayakawa-san. Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

_'Hiiieee!'_

"Well then, we better not hold you up any longer. It was nice meeting you, Hiruma-kun," says her father, shaking hands with the demonic teen.

_'Not you too, tou-chan!'_

"No, no. The pleasure is all mine, Kobayakawa-san," there's a hint of Hiruma's customary grin at that.

"Sena," her mother intones, nodding her head towards Hiruma. Ah, right, her manners. Even though she's in this sort of a situation. How is this her life?!

"T-thank you, Hiruma-san," she stutters out, bowing politely to the older teen.

"Really, it's no problem."

Walking towards the entryway, Hiruma stops directly in front of her. Confused, she glances up to see a pale hand in front of her extended for a handshake. Further up, she sees Hiruma, the same Hiruma that cackles and schemes and manipulates, smiling kindly down at her.

"Best regards," says this impossibly crazy blond in front of her. Not wanting to seem rude, especially not in front of her parents, she clasps the hand in front of her in a firm handshake. The moment she did however, she feels the slight change.

With his back to her parents, Sena stood horrified as she sees the polite, mild mannered façade twist into the familiar maniacal demonic face of her senpai as he leans down slightly towards her.

"…Fucking chibi," Hiruma cackles under his breath before pulling back completely.

Throwing one last goodbye to her parents, the chaotic element that is Hiruma Yōichi left the Kobayakawa household.

Still rooted in her spot, Sena can only stare at the ground as her mind screamed only one thing.

_'WHY ME?!'_


	3. Chaos Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hiruma is literally chaos incarnate and Sena just wants to get through life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.
> 
> Special thanks: To my wonderful betas cheshirejin, Kirorokat, Mel's Merleawe and Angel Fantasy. I couldn't have done this without you all!
> 
> Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

* * *

**CHAOS EFFECT**

* * *

It's weird.

Going through the motions of her morning routine, Sena quietly contemplates the weirdness that is her life. Or at least what it recently become.

Sometimes she can't help but think that the past week had been nothing more than a weird dream. Or is it a nightmare, considering who's involved? Before, all she ever had to worry about is going to school, earn her grades, and survive the bullies that snatched her along the way. Now, her school life is shadowed by her newly imposed hobby: that of learning everything there is to know about American Football... and training to be an active member of said violent sport.

She has two very obsessed sport fans to support (and push) her through the steps, too. And rather than being scared to bits about it, she finds this new development in her life to be surprisingly kind of... nice.

And that's really, really weird.

Odder still, she cant quite figure out why her forced presence at Deimon after school hours leaves her less and less afraid as days went by.

American Football still scare her senseless. Hiruma terrifies her even more. And Kurita is the kindest, sweetest, most gentle teen she ever met.

Both teens are also quite enamored with her speed.

Sena never thinks much of her run before. She sees it only as a means to do errands and avoid getting hurt by bullies. But ever since Hiruma had burst into her life and not so subtly ordered her into training, she slowly finds herself enjoying how she runs across the field. The possibilities are almost endless. Being taught and made to practice how to be a perfect running back had its perks.

It also had its downside in the sense that at the rate her tutelage is going, she would undoubtedly know more about American Football than fifteen years of hard-earned cumulative school knowledge by the end of the month.

That last part is all Hiruma's fault. As much as she prefers Kurita's company, the blond apparently made it his personal business to 'teach' her about American Football, which means most of her time got spent with him rather than with the center.

It was both scary and curious. Scary for obvious reasons, and curious because when he isn't cackling away for some reason or another, the quarterback isn't bad company.

She still gets along better with Kurita though.

Saying her goodbyes to her parents, she makes her way to the house gate. Outside of which, waiting patiently, is her childhood friend and older sister figure, Anezaki Mamori.

"Good morning, Sena!"

"Good morning, Mamori-neechan," she greets back. Closing the gate behind her, Sena makes her way to walk beside the blue-eyed girl. "You know you don't always have to walk me to school, right?"

"There's no way I'm letting you face the dangers of life when I know that you're too weak and frail to take them on by yourself!" exclaims the well-meaning yet overprotective strawberry blonde.

Sena hides a long-suffering sigh beside her, because as much as she wish her friend's claims are wrong, everything she said is true. "You don't have to go that far, Mamori-neechan..."

"Sorry—ah! Geez, Sena. It's the middle of January; you should cover up yourself more. Here," Mamori takes out a pink colored wool hat from her bag and quickly puts it on Sena's head before the latter can protest. "And before you say anything, I'm giving this to you as a gift."

"Eh?"

"As congratulations for passing the exams, of course! I'm sorry that it's store-bought though since, well…you know..." An embarrassed blush covered Mamori's cheeks. Right, knitting had never been her forte.

Sena smiles, "It's alright. Thank you, Mamori-neechan."

Beaming, Mamori pats the smaller girl's head. "I'm proud of you. Though, even if the school wanted more students, I'm still a bit surprised by how you got enrolled so fast."

"Thank yo—Wait. Are you saying I would've been a student even if I failed?"

"Ah, well more or less. Our principal is a bit desperate, you see."

"Then what was all that studying for?" she mumbles, shoulders slumping.

Mamori chuckles sympathetically. "Well, it's over now. You passed fair and square, that's what matters."

"... I guess."

After that, idle chatter fills the rest of their journey to school, with the girls catching up with one of another.

* * *

"Take care, Sena!"

"You too, Mamori-neechan!" she waves back to Mamori's retreating form then head towards the school's shoe locker. Her good mood slowly fades away when she sees a familiar group of girls in front of her. Gulping, she shuffles forward.

"You're late, Kobayakawa-chan," comes the sickly sweet voice of her school's queen bee, Oda Sachiko.

"I-I'm sorry, Oda-san," she mumbles, bowing her head.

Vain and cruel, Oda Sachiko is your typical falsely sweet-faced bully. Coming from a well-off family, the shallow girl never hesitates to make use of her looks to do as she pleases within the student body. Boys chase after her while girls who didn't follow her lead both avoid and fear her. Anyone who opposes her will be bullied and harassed until they break.

The victims' complaints to the school staff falls on deaf ears, because Oda is careful to do her misdeeds when the teachers are absent or have their backs turned. And her retaliations are cruel enough that everyone save the occasional transfer student now knows better than to speak against her.

Experience with past bullies taught Sena how to sense people's moods and emotions. It's what kept her out of trouble. So when Oda locked eyes with her own, she known right then and there that the only way to stay unharmed was to do as she said without question.

Like now.

"Let's go," sniffs the dark haired girl after a good minute spent staring down at Sena's bowed head. "We'll be counting on you today as well. Don't disappoint us."

"Y-yes, Oda-san."

Carrying the various bags of her bully's gang has become her unfortunate routine in the past year ever since Oda transferred to her school. It sucked and tires her (they're heavy), but it's better than being driven to the snapping point. She seen some of the unfortunate few who've been driven that far, and the results weren't pretty.

She doesn't like it. She doesn't want to do it. But at least this way she won't get hurt. It's not how she wants her school life to be but what else can she do? She's weak after all. It can't be helped.

"Don't you dare make us wait, Kobayakawa-chan!" mocks one of the girls when she didn't immediately follow them.

She startle to attention and scrambles after them. "S-sorry!"

That's right, it couldn't be helped after all.

* * *

"Here is today's homework. Make sure you copy the answers correctly, Kobayakawa-chan."

Sena almost falls to the floor with the pile of notebook that's suddenly shove into her arms, making her stumble. "U-understood, Oda-san."

"Good. We'll see you tomorrow and don't be late again, got it?"

Standing near the school gates, Sena holds the notebooks tighter and lowers her head, lips press thin."…Yes."

"Very good, Kobayakawa-chan. See ya!"

The rest of the gang giggled. "Bye-bye~!"

"…Bye."

When she's sure that the group is far away enough, she lets her shoulders relax. Sighing in relief, she puts away the day's assignments into her bag, takes out her new cellphone—a congratulatory gift from her parents—and checks it for new mails.

_1 new message._

Opening it, she feels a smile tugging at her lips as she reads the message from Kurita.

_'I got the new cakes from Kariya today! Let's eat them together after practice, Sena-chan! :)'_

"Kurita-san..." feeling warm at the obvious care the kind-hearted center displayed. They barely know each other and already he treats her like they are long time friends!

Kurita really is a nice person.

She leaves the school in a happy mood, and in her contentment she doesn't notice the two boys watching her from a nearby rooftop.

Kurita is visibly upset when he removes his binoculars to address his companion. "Hiruma, those girls are bullying her!"

"Yeah. And what a way to do it, too." Hiruma blankly blows a mint green bubble until it pops, the very figure of a man unmoved by the scene below him. "How fucking boring."

And it is. Oda Sachiko is a fucking dull spoiled brat. From what Hiruma has seen for the past week, it's the same damn thing day in and day out. Just a typical textbook bully with typical demands and typical ways to ride herd on her minions. All cliché and predictable.

He yawns. Boring indeed.

Granted, the week didn't go entirely to waste since he learned a lot more about the fucking chibi. Especially about certain traits of the brunette that he can make use of.

Now, he just has to figure out how.

"We have to do something, Hiruma!"

"Do? We're not going to do anything, fucking fatass."

"B-but—"

"More importantly, we don't need a fucking weak running back."

"H-how can you say that, Hiruma! We can't just abandon her!" Kurita loudly protests, before hunching inwards with tears in the corner of his eyes. "She's our friend now. W-we can't just leave her."

"Don't be stupid, fucking porker. I never said anything about kicking her off the team."

"…Eh?"

"I said we don't need a fucking weak running back. There's a difference." Scoffs the blond as he leans back against the rooftop railings.

"There is?"

"Look, all you need to worry about is to be that fucking chibi's friend. That, and physically train her in everything there is about American Football. Leave the mental shit to me, got it?"

"…Okay. I don't completely understand what you're planning, but you can count on me Hiruma!"

"Then why the hell are you still here, fucking fatass?! Get going already!" Hiruma shots at the fleeing center until he'd disappears down the stairs. A plan is already forming in his mind, and he grins.

Oh, this is going to be  _fun_.

Now alone, he takes out one of his countless cellphones and pressed a number. He lets the dial tone fill the silence.

 _Click_.

"Yo."

* * *

Komusubi doesn't know how he ends up back at Deimon High, only that he feels wrong to not at least try to return the book he picked up from the strange girl last week. It's unbecoming of a man to keep things that doesn't belong to him, after all. So here he is, after school on a Monday afternoon, looking for a girl he's not even sure he will find.

Turning to a familiar corner, his ears picks up a set of voices coming from the school's field. Walking towards the field steps, he spies a familiar head of brown hair.

It's the same girl!

Making his way down, he can finally make out some form of conversation the small brunette seems to be having with a rather large teenage boy.

"—running back. Do I need to learn how to block, Kurita-san?"

Block?

"There might be a time that we need help, Sena-chan. When that happens, this is how you do it. FUNNU—"

He looks on, confused when the giant moves into some sort of stance with fire in his eyes.

"—RABA!"

He watches with wide eyes as the larger boy charges forward and slams his whole body into a padded sled, pushing it back several feet. His mouth goes slack when the padded sled reveals a fresh tear at the knitting base.

The word is out of his mouth before he even thinks about saying it out loud. "S-strong!"

The two teenagers start at his sudden shout. They look at him with surprise. "Wha—"

He cuts the brunette off with an eager greeting. "M-my name. K-komusubi Daikichi! A-a-apprentice!"

The girl blinks at him, looking bewilderingly confused. He expected that. He's long used to girls and women not understanding Strong Men's Tongue by now.

The larger teen beside her, on the other hand, stars back at him with shock. "EH?"

He pause, but smiles still. Does his new master not understand him? But, that can't be. He's strong. Very strong. His declaration should have gotten through. He knows men weaker than the teen before him who spoke Strong Men's Tongue just fine. So what's wrong then?

Is it... is it him who's not strong enough to connect with his idol? That would explain why his master is still gaping at him. If he had ascended to a new level of strength, then Komusubi's lower-level language must have sounded like static to his ears. The bulky teen will have to work even harder to bridge the gap between their strengths so he can address his master properly in the future.

The very thought makes him shiver with anticipation. This was it! He has found his calling. More importantly, he finally found his master! Fugo!

His idol is kicked aside by a grinning, devil-looking blond with a gun cocked over his shoulder. "Kekekeke. Looks like fucking fatass jr. here wants to be your apprentice, fucking fatass!"

"R-really?!" His master turns hopeful eyes to him.

He nods eagerly. "Fugo!"

The bear hug that follows would have crushed anyone else's bones, but Komusubi is strong, and just as overwhelmingly happy as his master to now be part of the group. He returns the hug with equal enthusiasm.

Beside them, Sena smiles at the sight. But that joy is short lived because not a moment later, she feels an ominous aura behind her. A glance over her shoulder shows her a scheming Hiruma that's cackling away into his laptop.

That's never a good sign.

Feeling a hand tugging at her shirt, she blinks down to see Komusubi shove a familiar-looking book under her nose. Getting cross-eyed, she pulls back to properly read the tittle. Recognition dawns on her a second later.

"…This book. I see; you were the one who picked it up. I'm sorry for the trouble, Komusubi-kun." Rubbing her neck in embarrassment, she's about to take back the book before Hiruma's voice stopped her.

"Let him keep it."

"Huh?"

"You should already know the gist of things in the book by now. Right, fucking chibi?" Here, an ominous click of a gun rings out over the silent field.

"Y-yes, Hiruma-san," she stutters out while backpedaling away from the blond. Thankfully, Komusubi is wise enough to follow her example.

"Good." Hiruma aims at their new teammate. "Make sure you know every single damn thing in that book by the end of the week, fucking fatass Jr. Can't be a good apprentice if you don't know the rules, right?"

Komusubi immediately straightens up and gives their fanged captain an eager salute. "Fugo!"

And that's how the Devil Bats got their fourth member.

* * *

Sena really needs to stop underestimating a boy's passion for what they love. After today's training, she feels that she can sleep for a whole week. Or maybe a month. But before she falls onto her bed, she'll take a nice, warm bath and—

"Ara? If it isn't Kobayakawa-chan."

Startled out of her thoughts, she looks behind her, only to see someone she'd rather not meet outside of school. "Oda-san…"

"What a coincidence. I was about to call you in for a favor, actually." Smiling sweetly, Oda takes out some papers and hands them to her. "Here, these are some of today's assignments that I forgot to give you earlier."

Clutching tightly on her bag strap, she nods, taking the homework without complaint. "R-right. I'll have it done by tomorrow, Oda-san."

"Make sure you do, Kobayakawa-chan."

"Y-yes."

That poisonous sweet smile on her face makes her sick. Sena bows her head so she wouldn't have to look at it any longer than necessary, and watches Oda's feet skips away with a queasy stomach. She only moves again when the bully disappears around the street's next corner. A shudder overtakes her body, and with a sigh, she turns to go home.

And stops again.

Hiruma Yōichi stands a few feet in front of her, with a combini bag hanging from one arm and a rifle lying on his opposite shoulder.

"H-Hiruma-san..." Sena breathes, mortified beyond speech.

Why, oh why did it have to be him of all the people to witness her pitiful state? This is the Devil of Deimon, the Hellish American Football Quarterback, and the gun-loving fanatic that also bullied her into the sport. He's worst than Oda in so many ways it isn't even funny, and she quickly learned this past week that showing weakness around him only makes him more dangerous for her health than he already is.

And he just caught her in a weak moment. Crap.

"Having fun, fucking chibi?"

The purred words make her flush with shame. She glances away, but made sure to keep him in the corner of her vision in case he decides to use her for target practice. "…No. But what can I do? A-anyone who opposes Oda-san gets punished. Some of them even transferred schools, too."

Hiruma tilts his head to the left, sharp emerald eyes assessing her. "That so?"

"Y-Yes."

The silence that followed almost makes her squirm. The blond's bubble gum pops. "So, not only are you a coward... but you're also a fucking idiot. That's to be expected, I guess."

Flinching at the comment, her grip on the bag strap tightens. "Idi—Hiruma-san, t-that's just too harsh." Biting her lip, she mumbles weakly, "Besides, it's not like I wanted this to happen in the first place…"

The other huffs, clearly unimpressed. His next words are laced with an undertone of disdain. "I'm calling you an idiot because you don't shout or fight back. You don't do a single damn thing to stand up for yourself. You're weak, fucking chibi."

The running back feels a spark of anger at that. For some reason, hearing him say it hurt her more than when Mamori-neechan did.

Hiruma takes a step forward. "You're so afraid of being ostracized that you let other people push you around." Another step. "Hell, you can't even say a simple 'no' to those bitch brats." Another one. "And when you get caught doing what should've been their business, you have the gall to say you weren't willing?"

He's so close now that she can almost feel his body heat. "Get real, fucking chibi. Either you're willing or you're not. So which one was it I saw just now?"

They both know the answer to that question. The papers she still holds in her hands are proof enough.

"Thought so. A fucking idiot you are, indeed."

For the first time since they met, Sena finally looks at Hiruma in the eyes, an almost glare on her face. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the older teen. "N-Not everyone can be confident like you, Hiruma-san."

The quarterback's eyes gleam. "Oh?"

"Willingness has nothing to do with this. You forced me to do what you wanted too, just like Oda-san. You never gave me a choice! Never!"

"Damn straight I didn't."

"…At least deny it a little bit."

"Kekekeke, why should I?"

His words only infuriate her further. She has half a mind to shout at him like he wants her to, but thinks better of it. Hiruma hasn't used his rifle yet, but that can change if she walks into the trap he so obviously laid for her. So she looks away again and breathes deeply to cool her rising temper. "... I might be a coward, but I'm no idiot. I'm sure of that, at least."

"Liar. If you're no idiot, then you would've said no to that bitch brat or better yet, sent her running. But you never did."

"Hiruma-san..."

Sena sighs; her anger falling away. Honestly, why argue with him when it's hopeless anyway? The quarterback obviously does it to get some twisted form of entertainment at watching her lose it. He—

"Force them."

What?

"…Huh?" Glancing up, she finds herself almost nose to nose with the blond. She backs away with a yelp, eyes wide. The older teen cackles.

Sena gulps when that thrice-damned rifle points to her. For the second time since they knew each other, she dares look into his eyes to see whether or not she should run for it.

She's met with a challenging stare. "If nobody gives you a choice, then just force them to give you a fucking choice, fucking chibi."

Hiruma brushes past her with those parting words, leaving her rooted to the empty sidewalk.

She doesn't know for how long she stands there, staring blankly at the ground. But soon slowly, carefully, the once white-knuckle grip on her bag finally relaxes.

And she breathes.

 

 


	4. Breathe life into me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set...HUT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.
> 
> Special thanks: To my wonderful betas cheshirejin, Kirorokat, Mel's Merleawe and Angel Fantasy. I couldn't have done this without you all!
> 
> Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

* * *

**BREATHE LIFE INTO ME**

* * *

By Wednesday after school, three confused devil bats stand in front of what can only be a military base.

"This is…"

"M-military."

"This brings back memories," sighs the happy center.

Both Sena and Komusubi blink at that. "What do you mean, Kurita-san?"

Kurita smiles in nostalgia as he spreads his arms in a flourish. "This is where I first played American Football with Hiruma."

Sena gapes at him. "Here?! B-but, why at a military base?" Beside her, Komusubi nods furiously.

"Ah, that's because—"

"Get over here, you fucking brats!" The teens jump at the sudden shout and look to the other side of the fence to see their captain in full American football gear sans helmet. A quick scramble later, they stand in front of a gleefully grinning Hiruma. Never a good sign.

"We're going to have our practice here from now on," declares the quarterback, to the mounting confusion of his teammates.

"Why?" asks Kurita. Beside him, his two kōhai trade uneasy glances. Sena, in particular, feels a stomachache coming.

"We don't need any interruptions or word going around to other teams about our running back," Hiruma states. The blond cackles as he grabs his helmet and makes his way to the field. "Get ready. The match is about to start."

"Match?" choruses his teammates. Hiruma answers by pointing behind them. Turning, they stiffen, because making their way towards the field is a group of large military men. All of them wearing American Football uniforms, some red and some white.

"Why else do you think we're here, fucking brats?"

"Hie! That soon?! But Komusubi-kun and I have never been in a match before!"

"F-fugo!" Even Komusubi, as eager as he is to prove himself to his master, feels anxious at the sudden turn of events.

"Then what a better way to start?" grins the demon. Beside him, Kurita feels himself sweat at his best friend's antics. He really should have expected something like this when the blond told them to come here.

When the group of men is near enough, a tall African-American in white uniform steps forward. The man regards Hiruma with a wry smile, "You really haven't changed, Hiruma. Still a sly brat."

"Not my fault you lost," comes the smug reply.

Looking up at the assembled group, Sena feels the earlier stomach ache spears in with a vengeance. These men are their opponents?! They'll be crushed! The girl lets out a terrified squeak when a grizzly looking man places a large hand on her head, a sneer on his face.

"Hold on, a girl is gonna play? What sort of joke is this, Hiruma?" The man demands, turning to regard the quarterback. He stops short when a semi-automatic is place right between his eyes.

"Just shut up and play, fucking bear," orders the blond, grin razor-sharp.

The man seems smart enough to take the warning as it is because he immediately releases his hold on the terrified girl and steps back. The man raises his arms in surrender, a scowl on his face.

"No respect for your elders at all..."

Off to the side, Kurita gently pats Sena's back who is trying her best to control her racing heart. Dimly, the brunette wonders how she can even hope to play with things as they are. Especially when she doesn't want to be a part of it in the first place.

The three devil bats look up when they hear the steady approach of footsteps to see the red uniformed group standing in front of them. A freckled redhead extends his hand, an easy smile on his face. "Hey, name's Durant. Tight end."

"I'm Kurita, it's nice to meet you. I'm the center lineman." The friendly giant hastily grasps the offered appendage and gives a customary bow.

"K-komusubi. Line!" The short lineman stands in attention.

"...Kobayakawa. Running back." Comes the quiet mumble.

Feeling sympathetic, the redhead crouches down until he's eye level with the girl. "Sorry about Hudson, he tends to be a bit of a jerk."

Sena blinks up at the man, surprised at his kindness. "A-ah, it's okay since I've never played in a match before s-so..."

"Don't worry about it. So, running back, huh?" When said running back gives a hesitant nod, Durant grins widely. "Then just focus on running with the ball and leave the rest to us, okay, sweetheart?"

Behind him, the rest of his teammates nod at his words, some even have encouraging smiles on their faces.

"...Okay."

Trading glances with the two linemen at the lackluster reply, Durant comes to a decision. He promptly stands then reaches down to bring Sena up to her feet.

"Let's go. We don't want to end up being target practice for a certain demon, right?" chuckles the redhead, as everyone shudder in a unison.

Smiling hesitantly, Sena nods as she follows her assigned team with Kurita and Komusubi at her side. Fervently she prays that the day wouldn't end up being a painful memory.

* * *

The first half of the match gone the way you would expect from a last-minute ragtag team.

Not. Good.

Now at half time, the score is 18-6 with their opponents in the lead. It's disheartening. Their team isn't bad but they're not all that good either especially since Sena and Komusubi are beginners. They're not used to playing with anyone else or each other. With Hudson, the opposing linebacker, hell-bent on targeting Sena, she couldn't attempt to get a touchdown. By now, she lost count on how many times she was tackled.

Huddling on one of the benches, she clutches a bruised shoulder. Why did she stay when it hurt so much? Blinking back tears she curls further into herself. Should she stop? She tried her best, didn't she? It's obvious this isn't going to work. She doesn't want to get hurt anymore.

"What's wrong?"

Sena raises her head slightly to see Durant plopping down on the ground with his back to her.

"... I just don't want to get hurt anymore," Sena buries her head in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Durant turns and ruffles the middle schooler's hair. "It's normal to not want to get hurt. And this is your first real match so it's even more so. Frankly, I'm surprised you're still here."

"W-well, that's because..." Sena shoots a quick glance to the side, where a certain quarterback stands. The older teen seems to be in deep in discussion with Kurita about their next play.

"Should've known." Durant sighs then messes up Sena's hair even harder. He grins, satisfied when the brunette lets out a squawk in indignation, body finally rising from her defeated posture.

The redhead leans back with a laugh. "Listen, don't force yourself. If you want, I can talk to Hiruma for you."

"You can do that, Durant-san?"

"...I can try." Sena slumps at the sheepish reply.

When Sena looks at the field, she feels her hands clenched into fists as Hiruma's words echoes in her mind.

_You're weak, fucking chibi._

She hates this. This feeling of uselessness. Of being nothing more than a coward, too weak, too hopeless, too scared to even  _try_. But what can she do? What can a girl whose done nothing but runs away  _do_?

_A fucking idiot._

Sena's teeth clench in frustration at those words even as her eyes stings with unshed tears. "To be honest, American Football is still a scary sport for me."

"But?"

"I want to try. I don't want to s-stay like this either. I just don't know h-how —" Sena hiccups. She wants to prove Hiruma wrong. That even if she might be weak, she's no idiot. That she can change. But is it even working? All she's doing is getting her butt kicked out there.

"You're a lot closer than you think, Kobayakawa."

Durant gives a gentle smile as tearful brown eyes blink up at him. "You already got yourself at the starting line. It's just a matter of going past that. It might be scary, but remember what I said earlier?" he thumbs at the field behind them with a grin, "Just focus on running. Leave the rest to us. You're not alone on the field Kobayakawa. So don't shoulder everything on your own, yeah?"

Komusubi, who's been sitting quietly beside Sena up until now, gently holds her hand. "Sena. N-not alone! Fugo!"

A stray tear slides down Sena's face at that. "Komusubi-kun."

Maybe she's going through this all wrong? Before she gotten into American Football, she'd always been alone with no one to back her up. Of course, Mamori is the exemption to that but even the other girl never really lets her be anything beyond the weak childhood friend that always needs protecting.

But things seem different here. Right now, she's in a world filled with people playing a violent sport. A sport where there's no possible way you can play much less win if you're alone.

_Oh._

She's not alone. Here, in this crazy place, playing a crazy sport, she is not alone.

Looking at her two teammates and their encouraging faces, Sena feels her fear slowly dissolve. Beyond them, she sees other members of their team, not the least bit discouraged even though they look exhausted as she feels. Some of them even grin and wave at her when they notice her staring. Blushing, she tentatively waves back feeling curiously warm.

_'They're right. I'm not the only one fighting. Running_ _**away** _ _...'_

Squeezing Komusubi's hand in return Sena carefully takes a deep breath and stands.

_'Is no longer an option!'_

Wiping away any traces of her tears, Sena makes her way towards the two remaining devil bats. Kurita, seeing her approach, beams at her. Hesitantly, Sena smiles back. She can do this. It's not too late for her. She can still change.

"H-hiruma-san."

The blond's ear twitches at her voice but doesn't turn around. "Hn?"

Quickly, the younger teen forces her words out in a tumble, "C-can we try that run again, please? I-I feel like I can pass Hudson-san now. Probably."

"Oh, think you can win, fucking chibi?" The quarterback finally turns to look at the fidgeting girl.

"T-that's; I just think that now maybe I can —of course, that's n-not to say it's a guarantee b-but maybe I can at least try and—hie!"

Whatever else she wants to say is lost when Hiruma aims his gun at her, a tick on his brow. "It's a yes or no question, you fucking brat!"

"I'm sorry!" Sena squeaks. Hiruma's scowl softens into a thoughtful frown.

"Do you want to win?" Voice quiet and serious, the quarterback stares straight at her, feeling pleased when the brunette doesn't look away.

Clenching her sweaty palms into fists, Sena resolutely looks back at that fiery green gaze. No turning back now. "Yes."

A wide bloodthirsty grin cuts through the older teen's face at that.

Turning on his heel, Hiruma swiftly fastens his helmet on. As he makes his way back on the field, the demon lets loose an unholy cackle that sends chills down everyone's spine.

"Then let's give them hell."

* * *

Sena feels her pulse thumping wildly in her chest as she stands on the edge of the field. Hands shaking, she opens a palm then writes the kanji for 'person' with a lone finger. Swallowing it, she repeats the action over and over again until she feels a familiar presence beside her.

"Not an idiot, huh?"

Blinking, she turns to see Hiruma looking over the field with his signature grin. A sharp contrast to the quiet words he just said. Glancing down at her, the older teen gestures in front of them.

"Prove it."

Brushing past her, Hiruma walks to stand behind Kurita, leaving Sena to stare confusedly after the blond as he shouts orders to the team.

Was that a threat? Or maybe it was some form of twisted encouragement? Wait, no. Hiruma isn't the sort of person to encourage people. Then again, from what she's seen ever since they met is that he's also the sort of guy who likes to do things in a roundabout way. So maybe...ugh, no, never mind. Once again, Hiruma is proving that he's a walking contradiction.

' _Chaos incarnated demon,'_  her mind grumbles.

Well whatever it was, it takes out the sting of Hiruma's previous words somewhat. Feeling her heartbeat calming down, Sena makes her way to stand behind the quarterback. Getting into position, she grips her knees tight as Hiruma calls out the count.

"Set!"

Sena's aware that there are so many things that could go wrong with this. She herself still isn't all that sure about American football. Even so, —

"Hut!"

She forcefully shakes her head to dispel those thoughts. It's unexpected, but this is her chance to change. And the little that she can do, she'll do it.

"Hut!"

Because what does matter is to score a touchdown. And to do that, all she needs to do now—

"HUT!"

Is to  _run_.

Shooting out like a cannonball, Sena darts for the ball passing from Hiruma's grasp. Grabbing it, she sprints forward to the end zone.

The change is slight but significant. Before, she ran just so the match would end faster. Now, with the goal to at least score even just one touchdown, she feels her legs becoming a little less sluggish. More firmly planted on the ground.

Lips press into a thin line, she grips the ball tight as she envisions all the possible ways to get to the end zone.

A sharp left,

A dodge to the right,

A spin—

One after another, she leaves her opponents behind her in the dust. Dimly, she hears Kurita cheering with Komusubi echoing him as she passes the last player.

There are only forty more yards. She can't believe it. She might actually do it!

Thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-fo—

That's when she feels it. The feeling of being chased that she felt throughout the game. She chances a quick glance back and sees Hudson running towards her with no signs of slowing down. The man's huge, but he's not lacking in speed.

Feeling Hudson closing in on her, Sena feels her pulse quicken.

_'No. No, please...'_

She's almost there. Just fifteen more yards, and—

"Not happening, girly!"

Sena lets out a yelp when she barely dodges the hand that shoots out from behind her. Catching herself at the last-minute, she spins on her heel and stumbled on forward. With a cry of frustration, she runs. Runs as hard and fast as her feet can take her. Even then it's far too slow. Not for the first time, she wonders if she's doing the right thing.

Because seriously?! Her, playing American football? In what universe is that even considered sane? She got this far hadn't she? She tried her best. It couldn't be—

_Do you want to win?_

Sena gasps. In her mind's eye, she remembers the fiery green eyes that seared into her. The words were quiet and calm, but his eyes overshadow everything around her. Every excuse. Every fear.

Running isn't easy.  _None_  of this is easy. True, it's just a practice game. It shouldn't matter if they don't win. But then, why did she feel that if they did lose, without her giving her all, she would lose something? Some indescribable momentous thing.

For the first time in her life, there are people who need her. The speed she possesses, that was once only good for errands and chores, has the potential to be more. She could be so much more. More than being the timid wallflower. More than the spineless little girl that lets her childhood friend controls her life; content to hide away and let life passes her by.

_Not an idiot, huh?_

She finally has a chance to prove that though she's been a coward for as long as she can remember, she is not an idiot. Refuses to be.

_Prove it._

Gripping the ball tighter to her chest, Sena steadily increases her speed. Slowly but surely putting a distance between herself and Hudson.

She might've not gotten into this crazy and scary world on her own, but hadn't she decided that this is her chance to change? That no matter how small that chance is, she would take it? Even if that chance is in a crazy world filled with even crazier people. She still doesn't know what she wants. Not even close. What's happening now certainly isn't what she wants. However—

It might be what she  _needs_. Because as strange as it seems, Sena finds that she can answer that lingering question.

_'Yes.'_

Feeling her doubts fade, Sena then sprints, unrestrained, leaving Hudson to only grasp on air.

For one minuscule moment, Sena feels the world around her slow down and wash away. Only the sound of her breathing and the howling winds to echo in her ears remain. Glimpsing into a world of speed and freedom that makes her blood sings. And she grins. Wide and happy, a laugh bubbling at the back of her throat and spilling pass her lips in a tumble of delight.

When her feet finally touch the end zone, she dimly hears the roar of her team and the shriek of the referee's whistle that pierces the air.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

Sena kneels on the ground, her knees shaking while the grip on the ball is loose in her hands. Her breath coming in short bursts. Soon she feels a comforting arm—Kurita's— supporting her. She leans her head against the center's side, breathless and giddy. Then, for one impossible moment, her eyes land on Hiruma and see the fire in his eyes dancing with unrestrained glee.

Sena feels her lips tug into a small grudging smile at that.

_'I do.'_

Adrenaline spent, Sena closes her eyes leaving the cheers as the only sound she hears before the world speeds up again.

Well, it's a start.


	5. On Your Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today starts now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.
> 
> Special thanks: To my wonderful betas cheshirejin, Kirorokat, and Mel's Merleawe. I couldn't have done this without you all!
> 
> Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

 

* * *

**ON YOUR MARK**

* * *

Tossing and turning on her bed, Sena lets out a frustrated groan. Sitting up, she then musses up her hair and sighs. A glance at the clock shows her that half an hour has passed since she got home from practice. But despite how tired she feels, she can't seem to settle down. The adrenaline from the practice match still thrums in her veins.

With a decisive nod, she stands to grab her jacket from its hook, throws a quick semi-passable excuse to her parents, and runs out of the house. Her feet set into a light jog.

Outside in the crisp January air, Sena feels her shoulders relax, feeling calmer than she was at home.

' _What am I doing?'_

She never felt this way before. So excited yet so scared. Little by little things are changing in her life and she is changing along with it. And all of it somehow centers on a sport, of all things.

Picking up her pace, she thinks back to the last couple of hours as her feet carry her to a nearby riverbank. The cheers. The wind that surrounded her as she ran with everything she had. And of course, the sharp whistle that pierced the air as the referee shouted out what any footballer would want to hear.

_TOUCHDOWN!_

She remembers the desperation. More than that, she remembers the excitement. The utter joy, as she tasted the freedom that only a run could give. Sena wonders if those warring emotions didn't just reflect what happened on the field but also on what she wants in life. Like a parallel of sorts.

She chews on that for a moment then hesitantly admits to herself that it might be true. Her desperation would reflect on her desire to run from her problems, wouldn't it? And the joy would be when she finally achieves that.

Sena frowns, unsettled.  _'Wait, no. That's not right. I want to change, to be better. And running away from my problems won't do me any good. But running is what I'm good at so how should I put it?'_

She's broken from her musings with a yelp when a dark blur zips past her, almost causing her stumble. When she regains her footing, she sees a hooded figure standing in front of her, silent and still as a statue.

"Hie!" Gulping in fear, she takes a cautious step back.  _'A robber? A pervert?'_  No no no no no, it doesn't matter. Get away. Get away  _right now._

"You're fast."

Sena freezes in place. "…Eh?"

"But your run is full of doubt and hesitation," comments the stranger with a no nonsense tone.

Mystified, she stares at the hooded man. Wait, no. Upon closer inspection from the fading evening sun, she realizes that the man is actually a dark haired teenager. Around Hiruma and Kurita's age, it seems.

Looking like he said his piece, the other teen turns away, snapping Sena out of her confused daze.

"Wait!"

"Hm?" the other turns in question.

Sena twitches in surprise, staring incredulously at her outstretched hand.  _'W-what am I doing?!'_

But it doesn't seem like the other teen means any harm and she  _is_  curious about his words. "Y-you said t-that my run is full of doubt and hesitation. That's– how can you tell?"

"It's obvious from the way you run."

"Okay." That explains nothing, though. "Then, how do I overcome them?"

"You run."

"…Pardon?"

"Questions about running can only be answered by running," the boy answers, tone serious and even.

Maybe this is a mistake. "I see," she mumbles. "Thank you for answering," bowing she turns to make her way home.

"Let's run."

"Eh?"

"If you want to know, run." Then without even waiting for her reply, the dark-eyed teen runs ahead of her.

Sena gapes, dumbfounded. Did the other teen just invite her to a race or something? Shaking her head, she turns to the opposite direction. While the boy doesn't seem dangerous, he  _is_  still a stranger. Nothing good comes out from following strange, confusing teenagers.

So then, why can't she move?

Sena stares down at her shoes, perplexed. Oh, she's wearing her running shoes. The same shoes that were given to her for training that she once thought of throwing away but didn't.  _'I wore them without a second thought.'_

Chancing a look back, she's surprised to see that she can barely make out the other's outline.

After a moment, she sighs then turns around. "I hope I won't regret this."

One step. Then another. And another. She runs until the distance between them closes and she finds herself running side by side with the dark haired teen. The boy merely glances at her then picks up his pace. She's quick to follows suite. For the next minute or so they continue to run with the intent of overpassing the other.

By the time they reach the main road, Sena begins to struggle to keep up. Gritting her teeth, she pushes on. Maybe if she takes bigger strides she can—

"Don't think. Run." Then she's overpassed.

' _Wha—?'_

Shoes thumping heavily over the pavement, Sena watches as the distance between them grows once more. If she was the same person as she was before she met everyone, she would've been discouraged at the difference in skills.

Now she takes the time to ponder the other teen's words.  _'Don't think? If I can take that as a hint, then that would mean he's telling me to stop overthinking things and just go for it and run, right?'_

Taking a deep breath, she focuses on the back of that retreating figure. Maybe having something to focus on will help? Like a substitute end zone. When she feels her mind free itself from unnecessary thoughts, her muscles slowly relax and then—

She runs.

For the second time today, she feels the world fade away, letting the winds carry her. However, this time, she gets to see the world of speed and freedom beyond just a mere glimpse. Heart pounding, blood singing, Sena grins.

In a few heartbeats, she catches up to her opponent, grinning wide at his surprised look. The boy then offers her a nod before he too focuses his attention on their impromptu race.

' _Is it even a race if we didn't even decide_ _where's the finish line i_ _s_ _?'_  She lets out a rueful chuckle when she finds that she doesn't much care.  _'Oh well.'_

She had gone out confused and seeking answers to questions she wasn't even sure to ask herself. What she finds instead is a race with a stranger so close to dinnertime and feeling as free as she did in the afternoon. Sena supposes that one of those questions is answered when she finally overpasses the hooded teen with a delighted laugh.

Maybe she  _does_  need to think less and do more. Who knows? She's hesitated this long, and well, since she's set on changing maybe it's about time she does something about it. Not just on the field but outside of it, too.

For now, she runs.

* * *

"Fugo!"

"That's my boy! Don't let one loss discourage you! Eat up to keep up your strength, Daikichi!"

Komusubi nods eagerly, mouth full of rice. The defeat his team suffered today still burns painfully in his mind. How shameful. It's clear to him now that he's still far from his master's league.

Shoving a piece of food into his mouth, he realizes that today's match showed him that he has much to learn. He needs to get better, stronger, become worthy of standing beside his master. And to do that, he needs to train. "S-seconds!"

His mother indulges him with a patient smile as she refills his bowl. "Eat slowly, Daikichi. You don't want to make yourself sick."

Nodding his thanks, he continues his meal at a more sedate pace. Only an unworthy man would disrespect his mother.

He thinks back to the match, hoping he would find anything that could help him improve. The rules. The strategies. Things that are still new to him. He remembers how his master defended the line. He remembers how his insane captain made his equally crazy game plans. And he remembers his new friend's run. How she cut across the field with breathtaking speed.

He chose well. He found a master in Kurita, a captain in Hiruma and a friend in Sena. They're a team. And they have a common goal to strive for. It's taking a lot for him not to cry in utter joy because as far as he knows, no other man is as blessed as he is right now.

"What's wrong, Daikichi?"

Blinking at his father's question, he realizes he has stared at his rice for too long. Glancing up to the concern faces of his parents, he shakes his head and grins, wide and happy.

"Fugo!"

His father lets out a bellowing laugh while his mother continues to stare at them, confused yet not as worried when she sees her husband relaxes, pride clear in his laughter.

"Yes, Daikichi, you certainly have! We're both very happy that you've found a place to belong!"

"Honestly, you two," his mother sighs, fond and exasperated. She lovingly pats his hand to show her support. He feels his heart swell at his parents' warmth and love. And he agrees with them. Because he hadn't just found a team.

He found where he belongs.

* * *

Sena is changing.

That's the sole thought of one Kobayakawa Shūma who lies on his bed, staring quietly up at the ceiling. He thinks back to earlier that evening when his only daughter came home late, tired and spent. It's a sight that he and Mihae have seen a lot as of late. It's concerning, to say the least. When asked, Sena only said that she was out with friends and not to worry. Mihae would have asked further, but he stopped her with a shake of his head as he subtly pointed out the small contented smile on their daughter's face.

It's something they sadly haven't seen in a while. A smile that lacks the weariness he would sometimes see over the past year. He hates to even think about it, but he and his daughter are timid people. He's not oblivious to what sort of attention that attracts. But Mamori always reassures them that Sena's all right, and they never questioned it.

Maybe they should have.

Thinking back to when Sena came back from her brief outing, he recalls the contentment and hope in his little girl's eyes despite being out of breath and looking terribly windswept from the weather. He mulls over what might have caused it, mind subconsciously slipping into his lawyer mindset. The past week was a bit odd; he sees that now. Because as tired as Sena may be, he does notice his daughter has gotten livelier too. But what's the reason? What could have—

_'No.'_  Shūma frowns. That's not exactly right.

Maybe it isn't a  _what_  but a  _whom_  as a pair of sharp, intelligent green eyes comes into mind. Just as he's about to examine that line of thought, a sudden chime from the bedroom clock brings him out of his musings.

A glance shows him that it's much too late to do such heavy thinking so early in the morning. Resigned, Shūma turns on to his side, taking comfort of in the familiar warmth of his wife. He pushes his thoughts to the back of his mind so he may revisit them in the morning. Before sleep claims him, Shūma is sure of two things. One, Sena is changing. And two—

Hiruma Yōichi is somehow involved.

* * *

"Musashi!"

"...It's one in the morning, Kurita." Musashi groans from the other end of the line.

Oops. "Sorry, Musashi. But I'm just so happy! Hiruma even had us have our first match with our new teammates today!"

"Has that idiot gone insane? Wait, no. Never mind." He hears the rustle of a futon before Musashi's voice comes back on, a little less groggy. "How was it? The newbies okay?"

"Yeah! They were amazing! You should have seen them, Musashi!" Kurita can't remember the last time he's this happy.

"I'm glad to hear that, Kurita." Musashi chuckles, warm and fond and suddenly, Kurita remembers. He remembers when was the last time he was this happy. Back at Maō. When it was the three of them, ready to take on the world.

"Kurita?" He must've stayed quiet too long because Musashi sounds a bit worried.

The words slip out before he has the chance to stop it. "... I wish you were here with us, Musashi."

When only silence greets him, Kurita inwardly berates himself. He shouldn't trouble Musashi like this. "I'm so—"

"Tell me about the match," tone quiet and even. Not a hint of anger or fault in Musashi's voice.

Just like that, Kurita feels his guilt assuage, "Sure!"

He will feel that guilt again later, he's sure. But for now, he has a story to tell. Of possibilities and maybe of second chances, too.

"It was like this—"

* * *

Elsewhere, Hiruma stands high on a rooftop building, looking down at the sleeping city. He chews his gum almost absent-mindedly, lost in thought with his mind running in every possible direction at once. All filled with numbers and calculations, of plans formed and discarded, broken down and then built back up.

Over and over again.

A moment later, humming fills in the silence, dark and haunting. Hiruma leans back against the rooftop railing, tipping his head up at the pitch-black sky. A devilish grin plays on his lips as he thinks back to progress made.

It's a bit of a slow start, but things are finally set in motion. There are still wrinkles that need straightening out. Variables that needs to be accounted for. However, those could be dealt with as they come.

It's the right decision on his part, bringing the others to the base. He can tick off getting the brats started. Now moving on to the next phase: keeping them motivated.

It's still new for the brats, Kobayakawa, especially. Hiruma knows that it's important to let the girl love the sport on her own accord. Seems like she's already taken the first tentative steps to finally taking charge of her life. Still a little too passive and hesitant for his taste, though.

That will change in time.

As the wind picks up, he hums a little louder, a little faster, breathes in then falls silent as his ears pick up three distant chimes of the city's clock tower.

_One._

He pushes away from the railing and for a moment, allows his fingers to brush briefly against his collarbone, where a leather cord hides underneath.

_Two._

Spinning on his heel, he stalks towards the fire escape and returns to his humming. An impish tune this time.

_Three._

His grin widens with each step he takes until finally, he laughs long and hard.

_'The devil's hour.'_

When he regains control with his grin ever-present, he looks every bit like a commander ready for battle.

"Game on."

* * *

By Friday evening, Sena feels like she at least has a firmer hold of herself. Sort of. Since that fateful scrimmage and the following impromptu race, she feels like she's on the verge of a breakthrough.

Standing outside of the base, Sena stares out at the wired fence and the field that lies beyond, silent now since everyone left. The quiet allows her to think back to the tail end of  _that_  match, to that single touchdown that tipped her perspective into an axis. Considering how lost in thought she has been these past few days, it almost feels like years have passed.

The match ended at 18-13 with their loss. However, they did manage to gain an extra point from a kick. Albeit, a close one since she found that though Hiruma has a powerful kick, he lacks the control for it. A stark contrast to his passes and throws, surprisingly. In the end, even with that touchdown, they still lost. It shouldn't have disappointed her.

But it did.

She wonders if this is what it felt like to try so hard yet still come out empty. Surprisingly, she finds that she doesn't like the feeling all that much, clenching the fence in front of her.

"The hell are you doing?"

Yelping, she turns to see Hiruma standing behind her, brow raised in question.

' _I thought everyone went home?!'_  Gathering her bearings, she quickly gives the quarterback a bow. "Thank you for your hard work today, Hiruma-san."

The blond nods at the words but continues staring at her. Sena realizes a second later that the blond is waiting for an answer.

"Oh! I was just, um, thinking, that's all."

Hiruma hums at that. Walking up beside her, the quarterback leans back against the fence, giving her a piercing stare. "And?"

"Eh?"

"What've you been thinking about so much that I wasted quite a number of bullets because of how distracted you were?" drawls out the annoyed blond.

"S-sorry, Hiruma-san," she says with a grimace. Has she been that bad?

"Talk."

Rubbing a hand against her neck, she wonders why the older teen wanted to know. She refrains from asking though. She's beginning to understand that as long as it makes sense to him, Hiruma will do whatever he wants.

"W-well, I've been thinking about a little bit of everything I guess." She leans back against the fence too, feeling herself slowly relax as she concentrates on gathering her thoughts. "Mostly about how my life's been up until now and, um, about myself too."

Worrying her bottom lip, she voices out what she's always been afraid to say. "I've come to realize that I...don't like it."

Hesitantly, she looks up at Hiruma, who only stares evenly back at her. A part of her wants to flinch back.

But, thankfully a bigger part of her feels tired of cowering so with considerable effort, she holds Hiruma's gaze. "I'm not an idiot but you were right, too. I don't want to stay l-like this for the rest of my life. Of course, I still have doubts but..." gathering her courage, she states firmly. "I want to try."

There are still so many things she doesn't know, but she's tired of being scared all the time.

Hiruma stares at her in silence. Flecks of teal shifts in the emerald green of his eyes. She stands perfectly still even as her palms begin to sweat. After a long moment, Hiruma gives her a half smirk. "Don't just try. Do, you fucking chibi."

Slumping in relief, she nods. "Understood!"

Hiruma cackles before pushing himself off the fence, walking towards a familiar direction.

"Is that your usual way home, Hiruma-san?" she blurts out before she can stop herself.

Hiruma walks on, pulling out an AK-47 from  _somewhere_. Some days Sena swears that Hiruma comes from a ninja family because of these stunts he likes to pull. A  _demon_  ninja family, to be exact.

"What about it?"

"Ah, no, sorry. That's just my usual, um, route home too, that's all." She hesitates for a moment, and then she walks up a little ways behind the quarterback, putting a reasonable distance between them. Just in case any shots come her way.

"Speaking of routes, uh, how are mine? Um, pass routes I mean," she stutters out after minutes of awkward silence. She's never been alone with Hiruma for this long before, it's putting her on edge. And since it's getting late, taking a different, further direction isn't an option. So she's stuck with Hiruma for today.

"Passable."

"Oh…" She then tries another approach. If she's walking back home with Hiruma for company, she might as well make the best of it. And what better way to do that than maybe take another step to change?

So for once, she stops overthinking and just  _do_. "I-in that case, can we practice?" When she only gets a blank stare, she hastens to explain herself. "Since we're um, going back the same way and all."

Hiruma for his part, stares at Kobayakawa, feeling intrigued despite himself. Looks like the girl is finally taking the steps to change herself. Good. Though, the girl almost looks constipated from the strain on maintaining a determined front.

' _That's one hell of a face.'_  Snorting internally, he nods. "Go on then."

Kobayakawa blinks then lights up with a smile, wide and earnest. The brat really wears her heart on her sleeve, doesn't she? "Got it!"

He suspects that he won't tire of seeing Kobayakawa's many expressions and reactions as the brunette dashes pass him. At a reasonable distance, he calls out.

"Slant!"

Although, the chibi is still prone to be a little overexcited when she's all gung-ho and determined. Like—

"Hie!"

Face planting on the sidewalk for example. Sonuvabitch.

For a moment, he stares at Kobayakawa's prone form, a twitch on his brow. Then he proceeds to make Swiss cheese out of the brat. "The hell are you doing, fucking chibi?!" He watches, half annoyed and half amused as Kobayakawa hops and scrambles away from the bullets, looking both apologetic and sheepish. Ignoring the girl's profuse apologies, he marches up to Kobayakawa, giving the running back a noogie. But even as he scolds Kobayakawa, he's hard pressed to hide an excited grin.

_'Keh, it's finally getting interesting.'_

* * *

Mondays are, for the lack of a better word, tiring. For Sena, it's even more so. Right now, she's starting to consider them to be both an end and a beginning as she stands in front of Oda and her posse. Their expression clearly shows their disdain.

"You're late, Kobayakawa-chan."

When she resolutely keeps her eyes to the ground, Oda lets out a derisive sniff then shoves a bag to her. But when she doesn't move to grab it, Oda scowls. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Slowly, she raises her hands.

_If nobody gives you a choice, then just force them to give you a fucking choice._

Her hands halt mid-air as her mind flashes back to the people that have supported her the past two weeks.

_Let's eat together after practice, Sena-chan!_

_Don't shoulder everything on your own._

She hesitates for a brief moment then drops her hands back to her sides.

_N-not alone! Fugo!_

Palms sweating, she clenches her fists. Then she firmly shakes her head.

_Not an idiot, huh?_

"No." Even as her lips feel numb, she's proud to find that her voice barely trembles.

_Prove it._

"...What did you say to me?" Oda demands, disbelief coloring her voice.

_Don't just try. Do, you fucking chibi._

"I'm sorry Oda-san," she gently yet firmly presses the bag between them back to its owner. "But I'm not doing this anymore."

"Hah?"

"Please excuse me," she mumbles then quickly ducks past the dumbfounded Oda. Thankfully the other girl's posse didn't stop her. Probably feeling lost like their leader. She only gets halfway across the deathly silent hallway when she hears the outraged shriek behind her, piercing the morning air.

"Are you  _defying_  me, Kobayakawa-chan?!"

She knows that there's still a chance for her to take it all back. That she could still apologize; say that it was all a mistake. It will spare her from the retaliation that is sure to come. But, that's not the sort of person she wants to be. Not anymore.

"... I guess I am."

She can only imagine the face that the bully is making right now just from her tone, angry and humiliated, threat clear in her voice. "You'll regret this, Kobayakawa."

Maybe she will, maybe she won't. But not right now.

Right now, all she feels is dizzying relief. It still doesn't stop her hands from shaking. But, she did what she wanted to do. She took another step. So even though she's still scared, she marches on to class with no regrets. No doubt things will be difficult after the stunt she pulled but, for now, this is where she wants to be. Just a girl who feels a bit lighter. A bit braver.

And—she smiles a little at the thought— maybe a little closer to the freedom she hopes one day she can obtain. The distance of her journey is still a long one, but there is one thought inside Sena's mind as she starts a new chapter of her life.

_Today starts now._


	6. The Choices We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The choices we make in life and the consequences that come with it. The good and the bad...and the downright crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter Six! Please Read and Review!

* * *

 

As far as he, Raimon Tarō, is concerned the best way to start the day is with baseball. No competition. So, with his precious mitt in one hand and with a ball in the other, Raimon heads over to a nearby riverbank with every intention of enjoying his morning with his favorite sport. In fact, he is in such a MAX good mood this morning that he readies a windup and pitches with all he's got and—

Okay, yeah, maybe not such a good idea. He sees the wild pitch —so far off course from what he planned, dammit— that lands some twenty feet to his left. Huffing out an annoyed sigh, he walks over to pick the ball up and try again. Or at least, that was the plan until he hears barking nearby. Looking up, he sees a small, deranged looking dog running abnormally fast for its size on the path above. And from the sound of it, there's someone trailing behind it when he hears a voice carrying over.

"P-please slow down, Cerberus! Whoa—!"

Belatedly, he realizes that the dog had strayed from its original course and is now running straight  _towards him_. The person with the dog seems to realize the same thing because the yelling grows more panicked the closer they get. "No, wait, Cerberus! Stop!  _Stop_!"

"Mukya!"

Raimon flails when the beast pounces, causing him to drop his baseball, which the dog happily chomps down on. Not a moment later, the dog is hastily removed from him. Gulping in deep breaths, he backs away as far as he can, almost stumbling into the river in his haste.

"I'm so sorry! A-are you okay?"

Heart still beating a mile a minute from the MAX close call, he turns to see a girl his age, white faced while holding on to the dog for dear life, afraid that it'll pounce on him again. Though he's not sure if that'll help because the dog is crazy to the MAX!

"Yeah, I'm...alright," he answers after he catches his breath. The girl seems unconvinced though, lips parting to say something before the brunette is forcefully dragged forward by the dog. A growl rumbles from the beast. Unfortunately, it looks like it has its eyes on  _him_  now. Yelping, he quickly shields his head. "Don't let him eat me!"

"C-cerberus, please!" The girl grunts from the effort, grip tight even as her lower body is dragged underneath her. "I'll give you a treat later! Lots of them! So, please,  _please_  don't eat anybody!"

At the mention of treats, the demon dog, —because there's no way it's anything else but a MAX demon— stops and looks contemplative.

They sigh in relief when the canine finally turns away from him.

Dusting herself off, the girl turns apologetic brown eyes to him. "I'm really  _really_  sorry about this um—" a quick glance at the forgotten mitt, "Monta-kun. Sorry and—Wait, no,  _Cerberus_!" The other teen wails, apologies cut short as the girl is, once again, dragged away by the overly enthusiastic dog to who knows where, leaving Raimon to stare blankly at the dust they left behind.

Shakily standing up, the boy wonders how his once great morning turned into a living nightmare instead. "That was MAX scary!"

Grabbing his mitt —thankfully unharmed— he runs as fast as he can, away from the riverbank. But more importantly, away from MAX scary evil demon dogs who likes to eat good boys like him. In fact, he's determined to push what just happened far, far away from him. Like it's nothing but a bad dream.

Yup.

Just a bad dream.

A bad dream that somehow has MAX MAX MAX evil scary demon dogs dragging brown eyed girls with them and, wait—

"Did she just called me Monta?"

 

* * *

 

The old base is officially their hangout outside of school. Even the thought of it makes Kurita happy.

Although, he hopes the soldiers don't mind too much of their change of venues. But, he has a feeling that whatever disagreements they might've had, had been swiftly handled by their resident demon. Even after all these years, it still makes him both happy and guilty having Hiruma as his best friend; his methods are very well known after all. Making himself comfortable, he takes a long pull from his water bottle, content to sit and rest after hours of practice. He takes the time to appreciate the past two weeks.

A light speed running back. A dedicated apprentice. A happy best friend. Himself, being happy.

"M-master!"

Turning to his apprentice —yay!— Kurita smiles at the enthusiastic lineman, waving away his thoughts. "Yes?"

"History!" He blinks in pleasant surprise at that. Komusubi wants to know about his history with American football? Oh wow. That's never happened to him before.

Patting the space beside him, he ponders the best way to tell his story. "Sure, I don't mind."

Taking the offered seat, Komusubi waves Sena towards them in invitation then waits eagerly for him to start, and Kurita's smile widens into a grin at the gesture. Another happy thing to the list. His two underclassmen being friends.

"Komusubi-kun asked me if I can tell him how I started American Football," he explains when Sena's close enough.

Showing interest, the running back settles on his other side. "At the base, right, Kurita-san?"

"Yes and no." At his teammates' confused looks, he elaborates. "I had my first match with Hiruma here but I met him before that."

"What happened?" Sena asks, head tilted in curiosity.

He's happy that over time, his only female teammate is opening up to them more and more every day. It's nice to know that her opinion on American football is now that of tentative interest. Hopefully she'll grow to love it one day.

Now, where to start?

Looking at the expectant faces of his friends, he thinks that the beginning is the best way of any. So, he tells them, well, everything. About playing American football alone. About his meeting with Hiruma on the school rooftop. About finding the hole in the fence of the very base they're in. Of how there use to be three of them and a gruff, kindhearted drunkard guiding and teaching them when no one else would. He even tells them about what happened with Musashi. It's hard not to when his underclassmen are listening so earnestly. Their concern is hard to ignore, after all. And he's glad he did because it seems to motivate Komusubi while Sena looks content.

"A-amazing, fugo!"

"It really is." Looking both puzzled and thoughtful, the running back glances at Hiruma, who's typing away on his laptop. Sena turns to him with a wistful smile. "You really love American Football, huh, Kurita-san?"

"Yup!"

"Do you ever get...scared?"

Sharing a fond look with Komusubi, he reaches out and grabs both of the running back's hand into his own "Yeah."

He's been there before. Of not knowing if you can be more than what others label you to be. And he wants Sena to know that it can get better.  _They_  can be better. "I do get scared but I don't think that's a bad thing. I'm doing the thing I love most and I couldn't be happier. I won't say it isn't hard but it  _is_  worth it." Saying that makes him aware of his bruises from his recent training. His trainer is quite a no-nonsense man.

"Changing isn't easy," his friend sighs. "Some days I wonder if I'm making any progress at all."

"You don't have to do it overnight, Sena-chan." Smiling, he gives Sena's hands a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it one day at a time."

"S-support!" Komusubi encourages, placing his hands on top of theirs. The words are not only for Sena but for him as well. They laugh happily at that, thanking the lineman. And just like that, they spend the rest of their time together, enjoying each other's company. Sharing stories and laughter. Somehow he even manages to get Hiruma to join them, who's still typing away but is now leaning against his back instead of away from them.

Occasionally, Hiruma cuts in when the conversation lulls to comment something about their practice, and that sparks even more things for them to talk about. What to improve, what to avoid. And he, like his position, sits at the center of it all with his friends surrounding him. Grounding him, supporting him as their very presence washes over him like a warm blanket. It brings happy tears to his eyes. Which, of course, cause Komusubi and Sena to fret about him while Hiruma kicks him.

One day, Musashi will rejoin them. Others will come and complete their team, too. And he hopes that just like right now, he will be at the center of it all, giving support and receiving it in return all to achieve their shared dream.

Together.

 

* * *

 

"You seem to have gotten along well with Hiruma-kun, Sena." Shūma says to his daughter, a few days since his observation.

Sena pauses mid bite on her toast. "Ah…really?"

"I just thought that you've been spending a lot of time with him."

"…I have?" Bewildered. Disbelief. His daughter isn't the only one that's good at observation. He  _is_  a lawyer after all.

"Yes..." Lips tugging into a calm smile, "He walked you back home a couple of times, didn't he?"

Sena ducks her head and nods. "Right, uh, that was because it was on his back to his uh, house. Yeah."

"Oh, that was sweet of him! Maybe we should invite him in again next time." Mihae chimes in, smiling at him. "What do you think, Shūma?"

"I thi—"

"I have to go!" Sena says around a mouthful of breakfast. The teen then hastily grabs her bag and practically sprints her way to the door. "Ittekimasu!"

"Itterasshai!" Mihae calls back, confused at their daughter's abrupt leave. "Now what's gotten into her?"

Frowning at his coffee, he's curious and alarmed at the emotions he saw in Sena's eyes. Nervousness. Panic. Fear.

Sena wasn't afraid when he first mentioned Hiruma. Wary and exasperated, yes. Fearful? No, not exactly. Respect would be the right term for it. In fact, Sena only seemed to react after what Mihae said. For some reason, Sena didn't want them to meet Hiruma again. The question is why?

"Mihae, can we talk?"

 

* * *

 

School is a nightmare. Well, more so than usual ever since she made an enemy out of Oda Sachiko. Even as she stares at her vandalized shoe locker, Sena still can't bring herself to regret it. Though, it doesn't stop her from taking a moment to a take deep, steadying breath before she starts her long day at school. Every time she does, Hiruma's words come into mind.

_'Lesson number one: Breathe. Before setting foot on the field, steady your damn breathing. Don't be a mess before a match.'_

Originally, it was a lesson in American football, but when she tried it off the field, she was surprised how much it helped. Especially when she tried it at the start of the bullying.

Calmer now, she gathers the garbage in a waste bag, aware that Oda is watching nearby. The surrounding students have mixed reactions about her. Some are snickering behind their hands while others ignored her and walk away. But there is something strange to this though. Every time she comes to school to clean up the mess Oda left for her, she always finds a waste bag tucked within the garbage. Not from Oda, clearly.

In fact, there always seems to be silver linings for every harassment. Textbooks glued together? A worn spare is placed in her desk minutes before class. Her lunch replaced with sand? She'll find a squished bread bun shoved deep inside her bag. She might not know why or how but she's grateful all the same. It makes handling Oda and her followers a little better. Though she does make it a habit of bringing her belongings everywhere she goes now to avoid trouble. She won't give Oda any leverage against her if she can help it. So, to avoid any unnecessary confrontations, she stays in the library with the no-nonsense school librarian as her company. Most times, she does her homework. Other times, she reads since, well, she always did like to read. Now though, it includes American football. The strangest thing?

She's growing to  _like_  the sport.

Ironic, yes. But it's hard not to when she's surrounded by people who love the sport every afternoon. And they've been a big help to her since Oda started her campaign against her. She's grateful for Kurita and Komusubi. Their friendship and steady support always cheers her up after a tiring day at school. She even finds solace in  _Hiruma_. If she can spend the majority of her time with a gun toting, blackmail loving demon, then facing Oda is nothing more than child's play.

So she does her best to go through her day the same way she has since last week; with determination and patience. When the last bell rings, she quietly packs her things and walks out of class with unhurried steps. Like every other day, Oda waits in the corridor with her posse, all smug with poisonous smiles. And like all the other times, she does her best to stare back at Oda straight in the eyes.

_'Lesson number two: Eye contact. Stare them down 'cause confidence is key. It'll unnerve your opponents and let you learn about them so take advantage of that.'_

She continues on when Oda eventually averts her gaze, her teeth grinding while her followers sing reassurances and praise for her. Walking out of the school, she breaks out into a smile, spotting a familiar boy waiting by the gates.

"Komusubi-kun!" she greets her friend, which the lineman happily returns.

"Fugo!"

Komusubi grins at Sena then throws a glare at the students behind the running back, daring them, especially one particular group, to do anything stupid. Sufficiently cowed, they quickly turn away. Komusubi was glad that even with his height, he could still at least intimidate people with his presence. He gives a sheepish laugh when Sena sends him an exasperated smile. No one is to bother his friend when he's around. Such dishonorable behavior is unbecoming and he will not allow it. Such is the way of a true man.

This current arrangement was purely by accident, though. He was on his way to the base one day and thought of picking up his new friend along the way since they were heading in the same direction. He had known he made the right decision when he saw how relieved Sena was, and It wasn't until they got to the base that he questioned his master regarding their friend. When told that the brunette was being bullied, he made his decision.

To think there would be people acting so disgracefully. Unacceptable.

Now he walks together with the running back every day after school. It's something that he enjoys as he gets to spend time with his friend. Sadly, he didn't have much of those growing up what with people having difficulties understanding him. Women especially. He's aware there are many times when Sena couldn't understand him. But he knows she's trying and slowly succeeds as days goes by. Sena picks up emotions very well.

When they see the familiar sight of the base they break into a light jog. Waiting for them at the entrance as always is his master, an armful of snacks at the ready. "Good afternoon, Komusubi-kun! Sena-chan!"

"Good afternoon, Kurita-san."

"A-afternoon, master!" He greets back, an anpan in hand while Sena accepts a box of Pretz with a smile.

Chatting amiably with one another, he and Sena filled in his master of their day. Before, his days consisted of training alone with no one around his age to talk to. Now, his afternoons are filled with spartan training and spending time with friends.

BANG!

Well, going through spartan training  _with_  friends seems more like it when they hear the tell-tale sound of a familiar cackle as bullets rain down on them.

A typical day in the life of the devil bats.

 

* * *

 

"I still don't know where you put all that food." Musashi says in lieu of a greeting, taking a seat across from one of his best friends. He eyes the array of food Kurita is currently inhaling in fond amusement.

Swallowing a mouthful of his dinner, Kurita beams at him. "It's good to see you."

"It's been awhile after all." He flags down a waiter to give his order.

"How are you?" He sees the concern in the lineman's eyes.

"Good," he replies evenly. "Anything new with the team? Hiruma hasn't driven them mad yet, has he?"

"No, no. They've been doing really well, Musashi!" Kurita is quick to reassure, then hesitantly asks, "Would you like to come and see?"

He regretfully shakes his head at the offer, no matter how much he wants otherwise. "Maybe some other time. You said you're training at that old base?"

"Yup, it's been great! Especially since we get to have scrimmages against the soldiers there." The center gives him a sheepish smile. "We still haven't won yet though."

"But you're enjoying yourself right?"

"Definitely!"

 _'Well that's good to know.'_  Glancing around, he notes the absence of their other best friend. "So, our resident demon not coming today?"

"Oh, I forgot! He said he couldn't. Not sure why but he mentioned that he had some things to prepare."

Crap. "With his arsenal at ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's not a good sign. I guess it's foolish to hope that idiot won't traumatize the newbies sooner or later."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad." When he gives his friend an unimpressed stare, Kurita is quick to amend. "Probably."

"We can only hope," he gives a long-suffering sigh. Those kids are gonna have a lifetime's worth of nightmares. He just knows it.

He's startled out of his thoughts when Kurita changes the subject. "How's Hotaru-san?"

"Where did  _that_  come from?"

"Just asking. We haven't seen her since we last visited you." Kurita shrugs, failing to hide the eager look in his eyes.

"Honestly. I still can't believe you two ganged up on me about this," he snorts.

"Sorry Musashi. We just like seeing you happy."

Kurita, he can believe. Hiruma on the other hand…he prefers that the blond shows his support in other ways instead of blackmail. "And that somehow includes constantly teasing me about my girlfriend?"

"Well, it's been almost two years...Hiruma says that's a record."

"Of course he would. And yes, she's fine. Kicking ass too while she's at it." There's no hiding the pride in his voice and Kurita hears it too if the grin is anything to go by.

"Then you're happy, right?"

He knows they're not talking about Hotaru anymore. He hears the unvoiced questions that Kurita refrains from asking. About his father. About the company.

"I'm…content," he admits quietly. Picking up his chopsticks, he starts his dinner. After a moment Kurita soon joins him, respecting his wishes to steer away from that particular topic in his life and instead talks about brighter topics that typically go back to the two middle school students. He lets himself enjoy the brief respite. Almost like old times.

Maybe one day.

 

* * *

 

One afternoon practice finds both quarterback and runningback in a forest behind the base. Away from everyone else. A fact that causes the running back to tread carefully behind him, ready to bolt at the slightest signs of a bullet. When minutes pass with Kobayakawa still jumping at the slightest sound, he finally stops to give the girl an annoyed glare. Seeing it, Kobayakawa gives a helpless shrug then reluctantly relaxes. He nods beside him, an order for the running back keep up, which Kobayakawa complies with after a moment. Then they continue deeper into the forest side by side.

Not a minute later, the middle schooler hesitantly speaks up. "Hiruma-san?"

"What?"

"May I ask, um, why me? I know that I'm fast but wouldn't it be better to have a boy in my place? It'd be easy for you to find one, wouldn't it?" Inquires the ever-curious brunette, determinedly holding his gaze.

Good. The chibi's making the effort to keep eye contact. Less stuttering too. "Sure," it's a valid question since it goes without saying he can easily blackmail a poor bastard to do his bidding. "I don't need slaves, fucking chibi. I need teammates. There's a big difference."

"Still, why me?" Kobayakawa tilts her head in confusion, not seeing his logic.

"It's simple math, fucking chibi. Calculate the variables and find the one with the highest percentage. It's not rocket science."

"Uh..."

He sighs, "Fifty percent." Pointing at Kobayakawa's nose, he informs the cross-eyed girl, "What happens to the other half is up to you."

"Fifty percent, huh?" Kobayakawa says morosely, staring at the ground.

Goddamn brat. "Do I need to drill a hole in your ear, fucking chibi? I said,  _highest percentage_."

The running back slowly lights up at the emphasis, finally understanding his meaning. "Oh." Nodding, she then frowns at their current location, "Why are we separated from the others, Hiruma-san?"

Oh this is gonna be fun. "Their job is with the line. As for us—" Taking out a gun from the bag he brought along, he tosses it to Kobayakawa.

"In matches, quarterbacks and running backs work together. A lot. Now it's just a simple lesson of understanding and predicting one another. To be on equal footing. You need to learn about me as much as I need to learn about you." He grins, all sharp teeth and predatory. "And what better way to do that than going against one another."

White face and trembling, Kobayakawa looks seconds away from passing out from the gun in her hands. "Wha—"

"Don't start pissing yourself, fucking chibi. It's an air gun."

The younger teen visibly relaxes at that. "A-and being in the forest?"

"Evening the playing field."

Kobayakawa stares at the gun, turning it this way and that. More confused than fearful now. "But what does this have anything to do with American football?"

"Everything," he beckons the girl closer. "Rules are simple. You saw the tree with a big red 'X' we passed by?"

Kobayakawa nods.

"That's your endzone. The distance from here to there is fifty yards. And way over there," he point in front of them, where they can barely see a similar 'X' on a different tree. "That's my endzone. Again, fifty yards. All we need to do is get the ball to the opposing endzones."

"And the...guns?"

"The bullets act as substitutes for the rest of the players. They're customized to solidify the moment it hits its target." When Kobayakawa still looks unsure, he elaborates. "It's a way to familiarize ourselves. Both of us will have a turn to be a quarterback and running back. It'll give us insight on how to read the other. As a bonus," he pokes Kobayakawa's nose, causing the girl to go cross-eyed. "It'll increase your stamina and awareness, which, you both sorely need, fucking chibi." Kobayakawa flushes at that.

"The one who has the ball won't be using their guns. In other words, they're the running back. The rest of the rules are the same as American football."

Taking out his own gun, he cackles. "Clear?"

"I think so. Um, how do we decide who's...it?"

"Coin toss."

"...Does this mean the game will start with a count?"

"Of course." He raises an inquiring brow. "Ready?"

Slowly, the running back nods, not seeing any use to argue. "Yes."

Taking out a coin, he shows it to Kobayakawa. "If it's heads, I'm it. Tails, then  _you're_  it."

His fellow devil bat gulps then nods. Grinning, he tosses the coin, cackling at the result. "Tails." When apprehensive brown eyes meet him, he inclines his head at the brunette's gun. "Get ready, fucking chibi."

Slumping, Kobayakawa carefully tucks her gun away then grabs the football when he hands it to the running back.

He unlocks the safety with a predatory grin. "Set."

Kobayakawa takes a deep breath.

"Hut."

He sees shoulders set, running position at ready.

"Hut."

Then he's pinned by the running back's intense glare, her goal set. And if he feels a thrill run down his spine then that's no one's business but his own.

"HUT!"

 

* * *

 

As soon as the count ends, Sena takes off running. Immediately, a shot rings out behind her, followed by the echoing cackles of the insane quarterback. But Sena refuses to look back. Over time, she's learned that as a running back, every second counts. Dodging a tree, then another. Pounding the ground with her feet, she runs as fast as she possibly can. She has a feeling that she can't take any chances with Hiruma even though he is her only opponent, so she tries to keep herself aware of the older teen's movements and to put as much distance between them as possible. Right, then left. Ducks under a low branch, then right again, all in a pattern that she hopes can shake off her pursuer. Another shot rings out just as Sena takes cover behind a particularly large tree, but not without the bullet grazing her ankle, solidifying a moment later, and she misses a step and stumbles forward. She quickly grabs a branch, preventing her fall. A moment's pause is all she allows herself and in that brief moment, she becomes more aware of her surroundings, noticing a string of rope tied to a long line of trees, white tags hanging from them in what she assumes to be for every ten yards.  _'This must be the boundary line.'_

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she takes a breath then continues on running even as her ankle lags slightly behind her. After passing the first white tag, she turns left. Right. Two lefts. The sound of pursuit doesn't relent but for some reason, it seems fainter now. It's only when she finally gets a clear view of her assigned tree that she understands why when she hears a rustle above her. A second later, bullets rain down between the leaves, startling her. But instead of jumping away, her feet shuffles automatically, falling back into a familiar sequence of footwork, dodging the best she can. She stumbles a heartbeat later when a shadow actually  _flies_  above her.

"Hie!"

That brief moment of panic is her downfall as she's shot twice at the back of her knees, causing her to trip and fumble the ball before face planting onto the ground. "Oof!"

Taking a moment to steady her breathing, she then slowly shifts onto her back, staring up at the smirking quarterback sitting comfortably on a branch above her. Then her mind finally realizes what or more precisely  _who_  exactly that shadow was.

"You can fly?!" She swears anything is possible when it comes to Hiruma. Flying is very much in his realm of possibility. She swears it is.

Her question somehow startles a laugh out of the blond. And okay, wow, so Hiruma  _can_  laugh normally. And it's a very nice laugh, too. Who knew?

The quarterback grins down at her. "Not yet."

_'I knew it.'_

Still, with the way Hiruma moved, assuming that he jumped from one point to the other above her, then he's almost as fast as she is on the ground. Combined with his unmatched aim, she really didn't stand a chance. "Why haven't you run like that in matches?"

Hiruma considers her for a moment then turns away, relaxing against the tree trunk. "My position as quarterback doesn't give me many opportunities to move like this." Shooting a couple of stray leaves, he cackles. "Besides, it works best by staying hidden in high places."

"Like a ninja."

"Maybe," Hiruma shrugs with a grin.

Nodding, it makes a lot more sense now to be in the forest. Hearing Hiruma jumping down from his perch, she blinks up when he crouches down beside her. "Lesson number three: Keep calm. It'll be a damn waste if you lose your head."

Then the blond reaches out, tugging her ear to emphasize his next point. "Lesson number four: Be aware. It's not just your front but your whole immediate surroundings. Tackles can come from  _any_  direction."

She smiles sheepishly at the reprimand. "Understood."

"On your feet. There's still forty five minutes," Hiruma commands, letting go of her ear.

Raising her head at that, she watches as Hiruma get back to his feet. "Wait,  _what?_ "

"A match lasts an hour after all."

Thunking her head back on the ground, Sena stares blankly at the canopy above her. There's  _more_  to this torture?

"Once time's up, we're rejoining the others." Hiruma lets out a particularly demented cackle when she gives a pained groan at the quarterback's statement.

_'Kami-sama have mercy.'_


	7. Comfort Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sena learns that it's okay to be scared.

Steadying her breath to normal levels, Sena gives a nod to Hiruma. Wiping away the sweat on her chin, she looks around the surrounding forest, feeling oddly satisfied. Since they started playing this hybrid game of theirs, she's starting to notice the changes that come along with it. Increased stamina and—

Shifting her head slightly, a bullet whizzes past her ear.

Increased awareness too.

She sends an exasperated stare at the quarterback who cackles from his perch on top of a nearby tree. Picking up the ball, she tosses it to Hiruma as the blond jumps down. Sena sweatdrops when it spirals sideways to land near Hiruma instead, to the quarterback's amusement.

" _So_  close."

"I'm trying, Hiruma-san."

Another change would be her relationship with Hiruma. They're not exactly friends but they  _are_  a strange pair. At the very least she can hold a conversation with the older teen without stuttering and stumbling over her words. Most of the time.

Sena lets out a yelp when she feels the familiar light cold press of a gun barrel against her forehead. She peers up to find Hiruma grinning at her, his eyes (emerald green with a harlequin starburst—mischief) mere inches from her face.

She sighs.

That's another thing that she's learned since spending time with the captain. A complete lack of respect for personal space.

"Lesson number five: Learn to adapt or risk dying," Hiruma smirks, offering the football to her.

She feels a bead of sweat trickle down her face at that. "Dying?"

"Nothing can be done by staying static, fucking chibi."

Pushing the air gun away from her, she reaches out to take the ball. When Sena feels those eyes boring into her, she glances up to find Hiruma staring intently at her wrists, the starburst shifting into teal.

It's a peculiar thing. While Hiruma is difficult to read, Sena discovered that the blond's emotions tend to show from the different shades of green in his eyes. It's just a matter of trial and error in figuring out which color goes with which emotion. Along with lots of practice.

So then...curiosity?

Sena frowns.  _'No.'_

It's interest. Something caught Hiruma's interest. Oh, dear.

"Yes, Hiruma-san?"

"You have shitty aim."

"...Hiruma-san."

"You look constipated whenever I bring it up. It's hilarious," Hiruma shrugs with a grin. "You have good wrist control but low accuracy. No record in sports yet your footwork tells a different story and it's not just from being a fucking gopher either so...Kendo? It wouldn't be a surprise if you knew it since your paternal grandfather was a police instructor after he retired from the force."

Sena refrains from asking how the blond even knows that, well aware by now who she's talking to.

Long fingers wrap around her wrists as Hiruma gives a low hum, starburst a calculative army green. "Your upper body movements aren't exactly what you'd find in Kendo even if your footwork is similar."

Sena bites her lip as Hiruma rotates one of her wrists; thumb brushing against her pulse point.

The quarterback tilts his head, bangs brushing against his eyes. "You prefer using the air gun like a melee weapon, sweeping your arm out in a wide arc..."

Sena watches as that mischievous glint returns. Ah, Hiruma has his answer but wants confirmation.

Sena nods with a depreciative quirk of her lips. "Tessenjutsu."

Hiruma raises a brow, prompting her to continue. "I used to practice a lot as a kid but Mamori-neechan..."

Hiruma scoffs, understanding what she left unsaid. "And now?"

"Only when no one is around. But I think my parents know..."

"They support it," Hiruma states.

"Maybe?"

Hiruma reaches out to her, flicking her ear.

"Hie!"

"Then do it here. In fact, this changes things."

That sounds a bit ominous. "What do you mean?"

"Bring any extra tessen tomorrow."

"May I ask what are we going to do?"

"Experimenting."

"...Please let me go home alive and in one piece, Hiruma-san."

"Can't play if you're in a body bag, fucking chibi," Hiruma remarks cheekily before calling out for their fifteen minutes time out.

Cerberus, who's been sunbathing nearby, trots up to them and drags her to their usual spot under a shady willow tree. Cerberus lies between her and Hiruma, who is already typing away on his laptop.

Sena smiles, making herself comfortable on the grass. That's another curious thing. The weeks have given her the opportunity to appreciate the demonic duo's company. Hiruma especially. Privately, Sena finds herself grateful since it allows her to see glimpses of different sides of the infamous quarterback. It helps lessen the scary factor.

Rummaging into her knapsack, Sena takes out her snacks and notebook. She carefully sets aside her umeboshi onigiri so as not to accidentally mix it with Hiruma's own meal.

She'd rather not risk having a mouthful of wasabi onigiri again, thank you.

Choosing a blank page, Sena passes her time by doodling on her notebook while taking the occasional bite of her food.

"Fucking hell."

Blinking in surprise, she looks up to find Hiruma scrutinizing her notebook with a gleeful glint in his eyes.

"You make puzzles?"

Sena gives a slow nod, confused. Then she remembers that it's probably the first time Hiruma has seen her draw puzzles instead of doodles. She wonders what sort trouble she'll find herself in when she answers. "Sometimes. But it's mostly to pass the time. I don't think it's any good though since no one seems to know what to do with them."

"That's because it's too hard for them. Shit, I'm adding this into those changes. Let me see," Hiruma demands, holding out his hand.

Handing the notebook over, Sena observes, fascinated, as a new color of glinting turquoise takes over the starburst. It's a good color to mix with the dominant emerald, Sena thinks.

Without warning, Hiruma picks up the dozing Cerberus so they'd sit shoulder to shoulder before dumping the canine onto their laps.

Blushing at the sudden proximity, Sena opens her mouth to question the quarterback before Hiruma shoves one end of the notebook to her while he busies himself with the other; a finger tracing the patterns of the puzzles. Any questions die in her throat when she sees the burning intensity that she thought is only reserved for game plans and strategies.

Hesitantly, she asks. "Would you like me to explain, Hiruma-san?"

Hiruma turns to her, emerald and turquoise bleeding together. So much so that Sena unexpectedly finds herself hoping she can continue to discover all these new colors for a long time to come.

"Hell yeah," Hiruma chuckles, an impish grin on his lips.

Smiling, Sena relaxes. Pointing at the puzzle that caught Hiruma's interest, Sena quietly explains; feeling an unexplainable joy about sharing something she thought no one would even want to know about.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Cerberus grins.

* * *

Quietly closing the door behind him, Komusubi makes his way down the steps of the company apartment. He sets off in a light jog, settling into the familiar rhythm of his late night training. Shadow boxing the air a few times, his mind does its daily review of practice. It's been almost a month since he joined the Devil Bats. Training has gone well, both with the team and his own personal training. Progress is made and he couldn't be happier.

When he sees the neighborhood convenient store, he increases his speed. So concentrated with his training, he fails to see a group of teenagers loitering near his running path until he literally bulldozes them over.

"Ow!"

"Shit!"

"The hell?!"

Blinking at the chorus of curses and groans, he turns to see three teenagers his age lying in a heap on the pavement.

Oh, that was unmanly of him.

Turning back, he helps the disoriented teens to their feet, patting away dust from their person. He checks over for any injuries that he might've caused then nods to himself in relief when he finds none.

He bows in apology. "S-sorry, fugo!" Straightening up, he continues on his way. Time is precious and he needs much of it if he wants to be a worthy apprentice to his master!

"Hey!"

Jogging in place, he turns to see the three stalking menacingly towards him. "You think you can get away with just an apology?!" The one with the fish-lips spits out.

"You got dirt on my manga you asshole!" Another with large shades complains, rolling up his sleeves.

"Better clench your teeth, punk." The last one, a blond with an X-shaped scar on his cheek threatens, cracking his knuckles.

Perplexed, he raises a brow at the dramatics. Looking closely, he notices the rumpled school uniforms and as the teens get closer, the stench of cigarettes that cloy around them.

Ah, delinquents.

Assessing them with a critical eye, he finds that though they are capable, they're not strong like his master. Weaker than him then. They also seem to think that they can intimidate him somehow like unmanly hooligans. A wasted effort. These three can't even compare to the Captain. To be fair,  _no one_  can compare to the Captain, Komusubi thinks with an inward shudder.

He shouldn't waste anymore time, especially with those who have strayed from the path of True Men. Sneering, he faces forward with a haughty huff. "Fugo!"

Jogging away, he leaves three befuddled delinquents in his wake, dimly noting a chorus of shouts that follows. However, it's not until a full minute passes him by did he realize that his legs feel heavy, causing his pace to slow down considerably.

_'I have only just begun. Surely I have not exhausted myself already?'_

Stopping, Komusubi looks down at his legs then frowns in confusion at the three pair of hands grasping desperately at his ankles. A glance over his shoulder shows him the prone forms of the delinquents, covered in dirt and groaning.

"Fugo?"

The apparent leader of the three raised his head up to give him a glare, gritting out his words. "We're not done here, you bastard…!"

Scratching his head, Komusubi crosses his arms with a sigh.  _'I do not understand. What do they want? I do not carry anything of value for them to take and I did apologize like a True Man should…Could it be they have reflected and wish to be guided back to the True Path of Men?!'_  He gives each of them a patent stare, sees a faint spark in their eyes and after a long stare down lets out a loud cheer to the other teens' confusion.

"A-assist!"

If they wish to be reformed, who is he to deny them? Now, first in order is to finish his evening training.  _'Perhaps I can help by allowing them to train with me?'_

"T-train!" he shouts, startling his newfound allies, who have yet to let go of his person.

"…Okay?"

Beaming, he throws them a thumbs up. "O-onwards!"

"Is he right in the head?" The one in the shades asks the other two. Ah, he must ask their names later. It is rude for a True Man to be ignorant of such common courtesy. But for now, onwards to the path of victory!

"No idea. Forget it, lets just—whoa!"

"Holy sh—!"

"..stop!"

Instead of his usual jog, Komusubi runs full throttle down the streets while behind him, shouting and holding on for dear life, are his three companions.  _'Such enthusiasm! It would appear I have misjudged them. Perhaps they could even be potential candidates for the team! Oh, Master would be most pleased!'_

Even as the four of them make a strange sight around town, no doubt attracting the stares of onlookers, Komusubi believes that today's training is going quite smoothly.

* * *

"Shūma?"

Glancing up from a case file, Shūma looks questioningly at Mihae, who's sitting across from him on the dining table, scooping rice for their breakfast. "What we talked about...do you think that Sena is in some kind of danger?"

Ah. Putting the files aside, he gives a thoughtful hum. "I don't think so. While I did say that there was something off about Hiruma-kun, I don't think he's a bad boy, just..."

"Just?"

"It feels like he's hiding something." Sighing, he gives Mihae in what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. Maybe I'm just overthinking things."

His wife waves off the apology with a smile of her own. "Nonsense. Your instincts about people have always been on point. It's what makes you an amazing lawyer...that is, if you're weren't always so timid about voicing out your opinions."

He gives a helpless shrug at the familiar teasing reprimand. Giggling behind her hand, Mihae's smile turns wistful. "There's a familiar look in Sena's eyes right now. But I'm not sure if it has anything to do with whatever it is that Hiruma-kun is hiding though."

"Familiar look?"

Mihae gives him a toothy grin. "The look of a baby runner."

Laughing, he leans forward against the table. "Is that so? That's good. She got that from you after all." For a moment, comfortable silence settles around them before he feels his wife placing her hands on top of his own.

"You're still worried," Mihae states knowingly.

He gives Mihae a guilty smile, nodding. "Sena is not the sort of person that would tell others if there's something wrong."

"Huh, kinda reminds me of someone I know."

"... I think I've gotten better over the years."

"Of course, dear." Mihae gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll ask around the neighborhood. Even my customers too, just in case."

"Thank you. I'll do the same."

"...What  _do_  you think Hiruma-kun is hiding?" Mihae asks after a moment, curious despite herself.

Gathering his files in a neat pile, he looks at the staircase behind Mihae, his thoughts to their only daughter who's getting ready for the day upstairs. "I think..." He carefully starts, remembering sharp, calculating eyes of a polite, mild mannered boy and seeing the faint discomfort. As if he was acting a part he knows how to play but rarely ever takes up.

"I think he's pretending to be someone he's not."

* * *

After hearing that somewhat ominous statement, whatever Mihae wanted to say is lost when she hears the telltale footfalls making their way down the stairs. Turning, she sees her blurry-eyed daughter ducking under the kitchen curtain before giving her and Shūma a sleepy smile. Pitt, their family cat, trails after her daughter not too far behind.

"Good morning."

Mihae returns the greeting with a smile of her own. "Morning, Sena."

She watches as Sena gives the same exchange to Shūma, almost stumbling on to her chair. Biting back a smile, she hands over the bowl of rice to Sena, who mumbles a sleepy 'thank you' to her. When she hands over Shūma's share, they exchange a quick glance, silently agreeing to continue their conversation later. Preferably when their daughter is off to school.

Mihae then claps her hand together. "Ittadakimasu."

Both Shūma and Sena echo after her as she digs into her breakfast. They settle into the comfortable rhythm of their morning routine, filling it with quiet conversations and laughter.

When they finish, she's quick to shoo Sena to the front door, waving away any help. "I've got this, Sena. Best be quick or you're gonna be late for school."

"Are you sure? I've got time."

"Quite sure. Now get," she says, laughing as she once again gestures to the front door. She sees Sena smiling sheepishly back at her, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Okay, kaa-chan."

When Sena finishes adjusting her shoes, she stands and makes her way to the door, hand on the doorknob. Sena turns back around, about to give the traditional goodbye. Mihae interrupts when something occurs to her. "Wait, wait. You brought that with you, right?"

Sena blinks at her. "That?"

"Your tessen, Sena. You have it in your bag, don't you?"

"Ah, yeah," Sena replies, quiet and hesitant.

Frowning, she duly notes Shūma sliding up besides her, no doubt picking up their daughter's behavior. She raises a brow in inquiry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just…girls don't need muscles or anything like that, right?" Sena says with a small unconvincing shrug. Mihae shakes her head at that.

"This is a conversation we've had for ages now, Sena. There's nothing wrong on knowing how to defend yourself. Besides, it was something your grandpa taught you isn't it?"

"That's right," Shūma quietly agrees, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I know, I know," her daughter chuckles self-consciously. Sena brings a hand up, rubbing the back of her neck. "Just, Mamori-neechan said that I don't need to worry about unnecessary things like fighting and training. That it's not something a girl should do."

Mihae has to take a breath at that. She knows that Mamori means well, would protect her daughter if needed. But that doesn't mean she's happy at how the other girl would sometimes tell Sena what she should and shouldn't do; only to be shaped into the stereotype of what a girl should be. Both she and her husband tried to tell their daughter over the years that there's nothing wrong with being who she is, a girl and eventually a woman of her own choosing. Unfortunately, children tend to listen more to their peers than their parents in matters of fitting in.

"Do you still believe that?" Mihae finally asks. After a short silence, she sees Sena slowly shakes her head, almost surprised at her action. Well, not as much as herself and Shūma. Has Sena finally realized it?

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe I did once but…not anymore. Weird, right? Ah, or maybe I'm the one who's weird," Sena jokes weakly, playing with her ponytail.

"Who cares? As long as you're being you, Sena. Besides, normal is so overrated," she quips back. Shūma chuckles under his breath and nods in agreement.

Sena cocks her head to the side, a half smile on her lips. A new habit her daughter seemed to pick up from someone. "You really think so?"

"Definitely. Long live the weirdness!" Mihae exclaims this with gusto, hands on her hips. Both Sena and Shūma laugh at her antics, soft and quiet but no less sincere.

"Yeah. Don't worry, kaa-chan, tou-chan. I have it right here," Sena reassures, sifting through the items in her bag then withdraws a simple, elegant folded metal fan that's old yet well taken care of. Her late father-in-law's gift to Sena.

Mihae nods, satisfied. "Good. Now then, off to school with you!"

Sharing an amused smile with Shūma, Sena nods then carefully tucks the tessen back into her bag. Giving them a wave, Sena calls out. "Ittekimasu!"

"Itterasshai!" She and Shūma return the greeting in unison. After a beat, Mihae turns to her husband, folding her arms to her chest.

"So, what's the plan?"

* * *

Anezaki Mamori feels like she's missing something important as of late. One that involves her childhood friend and honorary baby sister, Kobayakawa Sena. It's confusing her. Glancing down at said friend, she sees Sena quietly daydreaming beside her as they walk to school. That's normal. What's  _not_  however is the way she carries herself. Sena's no longer hunched over or skittish like the younger girl tends to be whenever they head to school. It's not a nice thought. In fact, Mamori feels guilty for even thinking it but for as long as she's known the brunette, Sena was quite the wimpy kid, so she's understandably confused in what she feels to be a sudden change.

"How's school lately, Sena?"

Snapping out of her daydream, Sena answers after a moment with a sheepish smile. "Oh, it's been okay. Getting better."

"Better?" she repeats, feeling worried. Maybe she should check in more often? They haven't been able to spend time together much since she entered Deimon.

As always, Sena picks up her concern with ease. Her sheepish smile turns a little whimsical as Sena answers firmly. "Yeah, better."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"Because if there's someone bothering you, tell me. I'll set them straight."

"I'm fine, Mamori-neechan."

"You've been a spineless gopher for so long. A pushover…Actually, I think I'll walk you to your class tod—"

"Mamori-neechan," Sena interrupts with a laugh, stepping in front of her with her arms raised placatingly. When Sena feels that she won't go into another tandem, the brunette reassures her by squeezing one of her hands.

"I'm okay."

Before she can insist on the topic, Sena lets go of her hand then turns back to the road; walking a little ways ahead of her. When Sena realizes that she hadn't followed, she waves her over.

"C'mon, Mamori-neechan! We're gonna be late!"

Then without warning, Sena takes off into a light jog; finally snapping her out of her worry.

"Ah, Sena! Wait for me!"

She may not know what school is like for Sena at the moment but she lets the matter drop for now. She huffs. Mamori then picks up her pace, following her friend who dances away with a tinkling laugh in her voice and a whimsical smile on her face.

* * *

_'Lesson number six: Take control. No matter how shitty a situation is, do your damnest not to lose control of the situation. But if you do lose it, you better damn well take it back.'_

For the past minute, Sena repeats those words from a certain quarterback in her head. Inhale and exhale. It's become routine for her now to face whatever Oda and her posse have in store for her, so she's determined not to shy away from them. After throwing away her shoe locker trash, she quietly makes her way to her classroom, studiously ignoring the whispers of her peers.

Contrary to what Mamori may believe, Sena really was being honest earlier. She's fine. Annoyed and hurt at times, but getting better each day; what with being around the Devil Bats almost every afternoon. These days, she can say that the gossiping and peer pressure doesn't bother her as much as it used to.

Today however, Sena can't shake off the feeling that there's something off the moment she arrived to school. A feeling she can't ignore. It's a feeling in her gut that warns her that something is about to happen soon, especially when she didn't see Oda or her posse greeting her like they usually do. Sena entertains the thought that Oda somehow got bored and decided to stop but dismisses it just as quickly as it came. Unlikely. It's only when she passes by a group from a different class that Sena realizes the reason why.

"Didn't think anyone was stupid enough to interfere."

"Yeah, should've left things alone."

"Wonder if they'll be targets now, too."

"Definitely."

"They reap what they sow. Seriously, who actually cares about class loyalty these days."

"Lame."

"Hey, guys..."

It is then that the group realizes her presence as one of them stops and points out to her direction. Recognition dawns on them before they scoff at her.

"What, got a problem?"

Sena blinks. Staring at the sneering faces of her peers, she feels a deep sadness at their attitude. She may not completely understand what they were talking about but Sena believes it's somehow connected to her and what she's been feeling. The fact they mock at other people's struggles has Sena shaking her head in disgust.

"Yeah...I pity you," she states, surprised and grateful that her voice sounds steady despite her heavy heartbeat. Before any of them could retaliate, Sena strides past them.

Nowadays, she rarely uses her speed outside of training and practice unless necessary courtesy of Hiruma's warning. That, and she doesn't want to fall back into old gopher habits. However, the twist in her stomach tells her that it's necessary that she get to her classroom as soon as possible.

By the time she arrives, the room is already mostly filled with her classmates, which isn't surprising since first period is about to start in less than ten minutes. At first glance, the class is seemingly normal until she realizes how unnaturally still and quite everyone is. The source is, unsurprisingly, Oda; , who stands in the middle of the class with her ever-present posse surrounding her. Beyond Oda, are three of her classmates; pale faced and huddling close together. The sole guy has one hand out to the side in hopes of shielding the two girls behind him.

"How cute," Oda coos mockingly. The bully then takes a step forward and slaps the boy, causing his head to snap to the side and making the girls behind him gasp in dismay. Sena grits her teeth.

"I told you to step aside, Aikawa-kun."

The boy, Aikawa, shakes his shaggy red head even as his shoulders hunch inwards. "Look, we don't want any trouble…can't you let this go? Just this once?"

"Why should I?"

Aikawa falters. "Huh?"

Oda points a well-manicured finger at one of the girls, one with dark hair in twin braids. "That friend of yours has been sneaking help for Kobayakawa." Oda then gestures back to her followers, "Tell him."

"Yeah," one of the girls chimes in, a sneer on her face.

"There's a time and place for charity cases y'know," another sniffs with disdain.

"…Not a charity case."

Taken aback, Sena stares at the girl with the braids — Hara, her mind supplies — who gives an impressive glare at the bullies while the other girl beside her tries to shush Hara with little success. Jutting out her chin, Hara steps away from her friends to stand in front of Oda. Sena notes that Hara has a bit of a height advantage against Oda, something Sena suspects displeases the queen bee if her frown is anything to by.

"What?"

Lips pressed in a grim line, Hara shoots back. "No one deserves to be treated like this by you, lest of all Kobayakawa-san. She's a nice girl and doesn't deserve any of this."

"You're right," Oda nods then whips a hand out to yank one of Hara's braids, who cries out in pain. "She deserves much worse for defying me. But," Oda shrugs, wearing a cruel smile as her posse move to separate Hara from her friends. "Since she's not here right now, why don't you take her place instead?"

"Aika-chan!"

Enough of this. "Stop!"

The Sena from before would never have raised her voice against a bully, much less to try and stop them. But she made a choice and she's sticking to it. Even if it's going to hurt.

Sena stands firm while everyone gaping at her as she enters the classroom and makes her way to the fray. She looks at Oda dead in the eyes. "I'm right here."

"What's this? Trying to play the hero?" Oda scoffs, while others either snicker or look away. Oda suddenly gives her a rough shove, making Sena stumble slightly. "Apologize."

Sena blinks, feeling like she misheard. "Pardon?"

"You heard me. If you apologize now, I'll stop…it'll be water under the bridge." Sending Sena one of her poison smiles, Oda gives a careless shrug as some of her classmates parrot the bully's words. "Go on, apologize."

Sena feels a surge of anger thundering inside of her, and that anger slowly replaces any fear she may have felt. She's been patient. For so long she's tolerated this stupid, tiresome behavior from Oda and her peers with no complaint whilst keeping her head down. Enough. It's time to take back whatever control she can.

"I have nothing to apologize for," Sena states firmly, stepping forward. The action causes Oda to stumble into one of the tables, looking bewildered and just a little shaken on receiving the opposite reaction the bully was hoping for. Sena musters a grin, which further unnerves the queen bee. " _Nothing._ "

Oda opens and closes her mouth, unsure of how to answer. "A-and here I was, t-taking pity on you."

"I don't need nor want your pity, Oda-san," Sena bites back.

Whatever Oda wanted to say is lost when one of her posse standing near the door calls out a warning. "Oda-san."

Oda grits her teeth, red faced and looking seconds away from screaming at her whilst the other students fidget nervously around them.

Sena stands her ground.

Then Oda stomps her feet and turns away, letting her posse hastily guide her to her seat. Not a moment later, their teacher walks into their class, non the wiser. As her classmates scramble to stand behind their seats, Sena quickly makes her way to Hara, stopping the other girl with a touch to her elbow.

Sena bows her head. "Thank you."

Hara smiles kindly at her, about to reply before she's wrenched away. Hara's other friend—a girl named Kimura, if Sena's not mistaken— glares at her whilst trying to drag Hara away.

Kimura hisses at her. "Stay away from us."

Hara twists in her friend's hold, about to protest regardless of the fact that a teacher is now present and waiting for them to stand in place.

That won't do.

"Hara-san," Sena whispers, smiling sadly while she shaking her head at the other.

Hara deflates slightly when she catches on but then gives a tight nod. As her two classmates make their way to their seats, Sena can see Hara whispering furiously at Kimura.

While not the kind of morning she hoped for, much less expected, Sena feels her heart warming because someone, no matter how brief, is willing to defend her. Still, she prefers that others would not get dragged into Oda's line of sight because of her.

After they give the teacher their customary greeting, Sena is quick to pull out her textbooks then shoves her bag into the table just in case her neighbors would try something. Feeling a pair of eyes on her, Sena glances up to find Oda looking back at her with an ugly sneer. No doubt plotting something against her. It seems like her better days will be taking a break soon. She'd be lying if she said that she's not apprehensive or scared of how things will escalate from now on. So, even if she's about to break into a cold sweat; with hands shaking under her desk and heart thundering in her ears, Sena takes a steadying breath and prepares herself for the long haul.

_'Bring it on.'_

* * *

"Better. Take five, kid."

Stumbling back on the grass, Kurita breathes a sigh of relief even as his muscles ache. Wiping away his sweat, he turns to his coach. "Am I improving, Sullivan-sensei?"

Benjamin Sullivan is a large mammoth of a man with shaggy dark brown hair, strong and humble with a good sense of humor. He also happens to be a fellow center lineman and his coach. After that first scrimmage, each of the Devil Bats were assigned a coach for training and to polish their skill set which surprisingly, the soldiers didn't need to be blackmailed to agree to, much to Kurita's relief.

Folding his arms, Sullivan gives him a critical once over before nodding. "You are. It's not your skills I'm worried about though. It's your will."

"My will?" Kurita asks, deflating slightly.

Sullivan raises a brow. "As a lineman, no, as a center, what is it that you do?"

"Defending the line?" Kurita answers after a beat of hesitation, feeling confused.

"You don't sound sure there, Kurita."

Flustered, he twiddles his fingers together; trying to find the right words to an answer he knows by heart. "No, just um, I defend the line to make sure that our opponents won't get the ball and to protect my teammates behind me. Especially Hiruma since he's the quarterback."

Sullivan nods. "And he's your best friend, right?"

Kurita beams, bright and confident. "Definitely!"

"You brave soul," Sullivan mutters.

"Eh?"

Sullivan shakes his head, a wry smile on his face. "Nothing…listen, there will be a day that defending won't be enough. There'll be time you have to push back and go on in the offensive."

"Am I not doing that?" Kurita quires as he rubs his neck, feeling like he disappointed his coach somehow.

Sullivan seems to have picked up his mood because the man is quick to ruffle his hair. "Yes and no…what your doing now is being this wall. Unmoving. It's ideal for a lineman sure, but that's not all that we are. We're the first and last line of defense, you see. There might be a time when knocking away your opponents might not be enough because they'll keep coming back. Sometimes you have to knock them down and have them  _stay_  down."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Kurita admits after a moment.

Sullivan huffs out a reassuring laugh. "I'm not telling you to hurt anyone, kiddo. I'm telling you to fight back. Not just raise your hands up as a shield. You need to have the killing intent to crush the opponent and break them down with your power."

"Break them down?"

Taking a seat beside him, his coach looks contemplative. "The thing is, you have this belief that it's okay if you get defeated in the end. You won't be able to help your team if you get defeated, Kurita. You must be strong enough to survive till the very last touchdown. To do that, you have to fight back."

Even though he understands his coach's words, he's not sure if he can actually do it or if it's even possible for him. Not sure how to verbally reply, Kurita settles on nodding instead.

Sullivan gives him a look of understanding before rising to his feet. "Okay, time to get back to work!"

Kurita is quick to follow suit, pumping a fist in the air. "Yes sir!"

After more than an hour of grueling training later, Kurita tiredly makes his way to the base's communal kitchen. He grins. Happiness bubbles inside him at the progress and changes that's happened over the past weeks.

Christmas Bowl might actually be within reach after all!

Turning around a corner, that happiness fizzles out when he sees his juniors sitting at one of the tables, cups of tea by their elbows. The look on Komusubi's face, worried and angry, combined with Sena's hunched form has Kurita picking up his pace; ignoring his aching muscles. When he gets within earshot, Kurita hears the quiet repeated mumbles from the running back.

"Lesson number seven: Focus. Don't get distracted by things that have nothing to do with the touchdown."

Looking over his juniors more closely, Kurita sees the way Komusubi grasps the running back's wrist in a reassuring grip, along with Sena's slightly dirtied uniform and mismatched shoes. "Sena-chan? Komusubi-kun?"

His fellow Devil Bats raise their heads at his voice.

Sena smiles tiredly at him, small and genuine. The sight makes his heart ache. "Good afternoon, Kurita-san."

"A-afternoon, Master," Komusubi greets back dutifully, not letting go of his hold on Sena.

Swallowing down his panic, Kurita musters up a smile for them. It won't do anyone any good if he makes a fuss. "Good afternoon." He makes his way to his juniors, smoothing a hand down on each of their heads, grateful that neither of them shies away from the affection. "Have you eaten?"

"Just about." Sena gestures at the snacks on the table.

Kurita frowns, for once feeling like sweets aren't going to be enough. Sharing a glance with his apprentice, they come to a decision. "Wait here, I'm gonna make something."

"Eh? You don't have to do that, Kurita-san," Sena assures as she blinks up at him, large doe eyes confused and just a bit lost. It hurts to think that Sena still has a hard time believing that there are people her age that care about her who just want to help and support her.

He sees Komusubi give Sena's wrist a gentle squeeze before standing up and goes to one of the cupboards. "H-help!"

Kurita smiles warmly at his apprentice, mind immediately translating the words.

_Allow me to help you in your most noble task in taking care of our most beloved friend, Master!_

While Sena doesn't seem to completely understand what her teammate said, it's clear she understands the sentiment if the wobbly smile is anything to go by. "Komusubi-kun…"

"Please let us at least do this much for you, Sena-chan," Kurita pleads, an arm wrapping around the running back's shoulders.

Komusubi nods beside him. "P-please."

Tension bleeds out from those small shoulders as Sena sags and curls up to his side before giving a slow nod. "…Okay."

"Does udon sound good?" Kurita asks as he tightens his hold, wishing so badly that he can somehow carry Sena's burden instead. He's the center after all. While he knows it won't help his friend in the long run, it doesn't stop him from wanting to at least try ease her burden.

"It sounds great."

It doesn't take them long to find themselves in the kitchen with he and Komusubi manning the stove while Sena, after much insisting from the girl, sets up the table. Kurita smiles. Somehow, their budding teamwork bleeds into their lives even outside the field as they work around each other with little complication.

While mealtime conversations in their team are usually filled with the day's happenings in loud and rambunctious voices, today as they sit with bowls of udon, Kurita takes care to steer them away from any topics that Sena might be uncomfortable with. Komusubi, a steady rock besides the brunette quietly follows his lead.

As Sena laughs at one of Komusubi's awkward jokes, Kurita checks the time and realizes they have been eating a bit too long. Team practice will start soon. Not wanting for a certain demon to hunt them down, Kurita quickly gather their dishes with his juniors following suit.

With their cleaning done and ready to go to practice, Kurita is taken by surprise when Sena spins to bow at him. "You've already given me so much. So, so much more than I ever thought I could ever have or deserved. Thank you, Kurita-san." Then Sena does the same to his apprentice. "Thank you, Komusubi-kun."

The tears he's been holding back since the beginning start to stream down his face. Sniffing, he takes a fortifying breath before placing comforting hands on Sena's shoulders. "You're not alone, Sena-chan. When you've got a problem you can't fix by yourself, there's a good chance that if we work together, we can overcome it. If things seem hopeless when you're alone, then please don't hesitate to rely on us. There are people who cares about you and...it hurts them seeing you in pain."

He's unsure if his words reaches his friend or if it even have an effect on her but he has to try. But before he can continue, Sena speaks up, small and hesitant.

"I-I…may I have a hug, please?"

A heartbeat and then he surges forward, all but dragging Sena into his arms, hugging her tight. Kurita lets out a sob with Komusubi joining in not a moment later; arms wrapped around their sides. Sena hugs back. When Kurita feels a dampness on his jersey, he murmurs comforting words as his junior silently cries; a vice around his heart.

"We're h-here, fugo!" Komusubi reassures, tightening his hug.

For a long moment, that's how they remain; two linemen shielding their running back from the world the best they can.

Eventually, their attentiveness seems to pay off as Sena slowly but surely opens up to them with choked, halting words; painting for them a cruel picture. About the bullying. The indifference.

Everything.

A sudden shift to his side has Kurita glancing down to his side, finding a seething Komusubi. He doesn't blame him. Now Kurita is not a violent person by nature, far from it...but never has he ever wished to give someone a piece of his mind as he does now. Even a 'blue sky' seems tempting. Taking a calming breath, Kurita cards gentle fingers through messy long brown hair.

"Just a little more until touchdown," Sena mumbles, clutching the back of his jersey.

Kurita nods, then opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by a chill running down his spine. Glancing up slowly, he spots Hiruma leaning against the kitchen counter, blank faced. The sight of his best friend makes Kurita's blood run cold as shadows play across the plane of Hiruma's face, highlighting his green eyes that have paled considerably.

A glimpse of the Devil.

People are under the misconception that Hiruma Yōichi is to be feared just for his blackmailing. They have no idea how terrifying his friend truly is when he lets the Devil out, rare as it may be. Honestly, it's no surprise. Hiruma has zero patience for those that harm people he considers his to protect and the team is pretty much high up on the list. Although, Kurita privately thinks to himself that Sena is more than just the 'running back' to his friend if his reaction is anything to go by.

Kurita watches as Hiruma slowly tilts his head to the side, focusing on the huddled form of their only female player for a long moment then closes his eyes. When Hiruma opens them again, a bit of warmth returns to that pale gaze; allowing Kurita to relax. His friend raises a hand up, fingers splaying out before exiting the kitchen as quietly as he first came in.

Five minutes.

Kurita smiles, relieved. Come what may, he knows his best friend will have their backs no matter what. Turning his attention back to his juniors, who are oblivious of the exchange, Kurita tightens his hug, praying for strength.

* * *

"I told you to stop sending those helpers, you idiot."

Having lunch with his best friends on his day off is supposed to be relaxing, which in retrospect he should've known better. It's an age old argument of him trying to dissuade Hiruma from sending his slaves to help with the company so Musashi could have more days offs. No such luck. It doesn't help that Kurita, in his worry, encourages the idiot demon.

The silver lining is that thankfully, out of respect for his wishes, it doesn't happened too often.

When he sees the lack of regret from  _both_  of his friends, Musashi sighs and shelves that particular argument for another time. Instead, he decides to address the main reason why they gathered. "Fine." Taking out a couple of files, he hands them over to Hiruma, who takes them with a nod. "I looked through the kids' stats and planned their conditioning accordingly. But just to be sure, how's their diet, Kurita?"

Kurita perks up, always happy to talk about their two juniors. "Good! Komusubi-kun is alright with the meal plans but I'm a little worried about Sena-chan, though."

"Is she worried about putting on weight?" he asks, picking a number of harumaki onto his plate.

Kurita shakes his head, munching happily on his mountain full of gyōza. "Nope. I asked her about it once. She said that she never thought much about those things."

"Clever girl. It's a damn waste of her time if she did," scoffs Hiruma, quietly enjoying his Mābō-dōfū.

"It's not exactly wrong to be worried about it, Hiruma," he says, pointing his chopsticks at the blond.

Hiruma rolls his eyes. "She has better things to worry about than to conform to what fucking idiots think how a girl should be."

"Point taken…so, Kurita, why are you worried?"

"Sena-chan has never done sports before. Much less something as intense as American Football. I don't want to push her too much that it'll make her sick."

"Has she shown any signs of that, fatty?"

Kurita swallows his mouthful before shaking his head. "No."

Hiruma nods. "Then just keep it steady. Make sure to remember that fucking chibi doesn't have your appetite. I sure as hell ain't gonna go out of my way to find another running back."

"Don't worry, Hiruma! You know you can count on me," Kurita exclaims, puffing out his chest.

Musashi smiles then turns to give Hiruma a questioning look. "I was surprised you picked someone who's never even knew what American Football was; especially when it's not exactly girl friendly. Kobayakawa must've been confused as to why you didn't have a guy play running back instead."

"Fucking chibi has the highest percentage in being the running back of the team," Hiruma states with a shrug.

That's...actually high praise coming from Hiruma. "Really? Just from her run?"

"If it was just her run, she wouldn't have caught my interest. Nor would it make her have the highest percentage, geezer."

That gets him curious. Not many can catch nor hold Hiruma's interest for long. Kobayakawa has somehow done both. "Ho?"

"What do you mean, Hiruma?" asks Kurita, setting aside the empty gyōza plate before reaching for a large bowl of ramen.

Hiruma huffs, exasperated. "I mean that the fucking chibi is a literal walking paradox. Her will is strong but it's been chained down and caged for too damn long."

"Why's that?"

"Bullying," Kurita says sullenly, picking his ramen.

Hiruma looks away with a shrug. "Peer pressure. Got a healthy supportive family though."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," Musashi huffs, rolling his eyes.

"Kekekeke."

"She'll be okay, right? I'd actually like to meet the both of them."

"She will be," Hiruma answers, grin looking oddly strained.

"Don't worry, Musashi. She has us with her!" Kurita announces, almost toppling the table in his excitement, which typically causes Hiruma to swear while Musashi quickly rights the table before they lose their lunch. He sends an exasperated stare at Kurita who apologizes, narrowly avoids getting shot at from an irate Hiruma.

With the fuss they're making, Musashi is just glad they're regulars and that the staff actually like them here, claiming that it's good business. That, and everyone knows better than to cross Hiruma Yōichi.

"So Kurita, an apprentice, huh?" Musashi prods after they settled down again.

Kurita nods, looking both nervous and flattered. "Yeah! But I really hope I won't disappoint him."

"You? Not likely."

Polishing the last of his dish, Hiruma turns to Kurita. "Did you translate fucking junior's schedule?"

"Yup," exclaimed the happy center while rummaging for something in his bag.

Musashi glances at Hiruma. "Translate?"

"Strong men language. I don't have the patience for that shit," the quarterback grumbles, taking out his personal gun for a polish.

"Ah."

Moments like these are admittedly something he looks forward to. These are much simpler times where he doesn't need to worry about taking care of his family business or hospital bills or even the reality of almost losing his pain in the ass father. It's just him being a teenager. He's allowed to joke around with his best friends, hang out with them and talk about their favorite sport.

Musashi knows that it's not just him either. Both Kurita and Hiruma tend to act more like their true age in these instances; in which they would talk about class and school work, pop culture, their families (usually Kurita) and even about girls too.

Like right now.

"Just tell her, Kurita."

"If you don't, I'll resort to some desperate measures, fatso."

"Please don't," Kurita pleads, waving his hands about.

It's another old aged argument they have. This one though, has been going on since middle school, which consists of Kurita's crush on his childhood friend. To their amusement and frustration, Kurita hasn't been able to confess since he told them about said childhood friend. Trying to encourage the center to confess is like being subjected to countless 'blue sky'; and they can only get knocked down so many times before things get crazy.

Musashi is even tempted to ask Hotaru for help. Soft spoken his girlfriend may be, but that woman's no-nonsense attitude is no joke. Even  _Hiruma_  admits that.

"You're as bad as geezer," Hiruma sighs, fishing out a pack of his chewing gum.

Musashi pauses mid-drink. "I wasn't that bad with Hotaru." Seeing the teasing grins on his teammates faces has him blushing. "Was I?"

"A little bit," Kurita chuckles, gesturing with his thumb and forefinger, causing Musashi to glare at the giant.

"It was like watching a goddamn rom-com," Hiruma cackles, blowing a mint green bubble.

That has him sputtering, feeling mortified. "Oi!" After he lets the two idiots have their laugh, Musashi raises a brow at Hiruma, the only one who hasn't mentioned anything even though both he and Kurita are aware about a certain committee member. "What about you?"

"Hn?"

"Any chance of Anezaki sparking your interest again?"

"It might go beyond three weeks," agrees Kurita.

That's the thing about Hiruma. Every girl he ever has an interest in never lasts long; with the longest being Anezaki back when they first got into Deimon. Hell, it's to the point where Hiruma never even dated simply for the fact that those spark of interest fade all too soon. It doesn't help that the quarterback doesn't have a type beyond 'a girl he can use' either.

Which  _doesn't_  count.

So when they saw that Anezaki is attracted to Hiruma regardless of her frustration towards him, both he and Kurita had been more than ready to help things along. However to their disappointment, Hiruma eventually lost interest.

Many would see this and call the blond fickle. They're fortunate enough to know better.

"Hell if I care. Besides, I don't have time for that shit," Hiruma scoffs, leaning his chair back whilst staring up at the ceiling.

They know Hiruma just feels too strongly.

After much needling, they eventually decide to drop the subject when Hiruma gives them an annoyed glare. Respecting the quarterback's wishes, they instead steer back to American Football, discussing all that's needed for the team.

All too soon, it's time for them to go back to their separate ways.

Musashi doesn't mind too much since he knows he'll see these two idiots again in a couple of days. Though a part of him wants to go back with them. To school.

To the team.

"You know it'll always be on the table, Musashi," Hiruma promises, snapping Musashi out of his musings.

Kurita nods. "Yeah. We're always on your side."

They're standing at the restaurants' entrance, his two best friends both looking solemn; which is a rarity and he hates being the cause of it. Musashi takes a deep fortifying breath. Steeling himself for work and all that comes with it has never been easy, knowing what he's leaving behind. He accepts it with grace. Taking out a terry cloth and tying it over his head; Musashi claps his friends' shoulders. "I know. Thanks you two."

Turning away, he shoves his hands into his pockets just so he can hide how tight he's clenching them. As he walks away, Musashi calls out. "Give my regards tothose two kōhai."

* * *

It's another bad day.

There's only the two of them in the army base gym at the moment; with Kobayakawa kicking and punching the punching bag in quick succession.

It's a routine shared by all the Devil Bats, especially for the younger players after the soldiers insisted on them to train in self-defense. Something that both he and Kurita already went through years back, and well, training has always been good therapy. Violent but good.

Fitting for a Devil Bat.

The only problem is that Kobayakawa pours out her frustration and sadness just like how she does everything in life. Quiet and reserved. It's driving him a bit crazy seeing one of his own being held back the way Kobayakawa is right now. Grabbing his water bottle, he sits on a nearby bench; watching as the running back spins a particularly vicious kick.

Perhaps an incentive.

Calculating his options, Hiruma slides his phone out of his bag then scrolls down the numbers across the screen; a plan forming in his mind.

"Please don't."

Hiruma glances up to find bright earnest eyes staring at him.

"Please don't," Kobayakawa quietly repeats, breathing heavy.

Hiruma raises a sardonic brow in question.

Small shoulders shrug as Kobayakawa plays with her ponytail. "I've never had to go through this in my life before. Honestly speaking, I'm weary to the bone. But it's mine. Mine to fight." She smiles, tired yet determined. "Mine to win."

There's a long silence in which they have a bit of stare off, neither of them backing down or turning away. Quite a difference from how things used to be between them. Hiruma feels a spark of respect for the petite brunette at that. "On one condition, fucking chibi."

"...Yes?"

Hiruma grins, pocketing his phone. "Lesson number eight: Execute. Have a plan at the ready and make damn sure you execute it. Violently. With lots of screaming. It ain't fun if you don't have fucking idiots screaming their heads off."

Tension bleeds out from Kobayakawa as she lets out a startled laugh. The brunette looks like she isn't sure why she's laughing at his comment but appreciating his black humor all the same. Kobayakawa nods.

Sharing a grin, they settle back to their respective corner as something resembling comfortable silence falls on them. Pulling out his laptop, Hiruma busies himself with his work.

A half an hour later and he feel a hesitant stare on him, to which he sighs and throws an annoyed glare at his teammate.

Kobayakawa gives him a wobbly smile. "Um, it's okay to ask for a time out sometimes, right?"

Hiruma frowns at the waver in Kobayakawa's voice at the end. "Yeah," he says, at last.

Head bowed, Kobayakawa nods then tries to move pass him before he snaps a hand out to her, fingers curling around the girl's wrist. When Kobayakawa pauses, Hiruma tips his head to the bench he's sitting on before releasing the girl's wrist and stares back at the screen.

An unvoiced offer.

He doesn't need to look up to know that Kobayakawa is currently biting her lower lip as she's prone to do when she thinks. After a moment, he hears Kobayakawa breathe a shaky sigh, and then he feels the brunette take a seat behind him. A quick backward glance shows him that the running back has her feet up on the bench with her arms wrapped around them, facing away from him. For a long moment, the two of them just sit there, back to back, facing in different directions, still and quiet.

Then his sharp hearing picks up the controlled way Kobayakawa is breathing. He frowns. He's never been the sort of person capable of comforting another. Never saw the need for it. However, he remembers the surge of anger when he found the running back huddling close to Kurita and Komusubi, crying yet still willing to fight.

Hiruma takes a breath.

It also doesn't help that he can't ignore the similarities between what's happening now and what happened four years prior; so much so that he's hard pressed not to swear at the brunette for making him remember things he'd rather not. Pushing those thoughts aside, he considers his next move, mind whirling until it finally concludes that yes; , this somehow falls into the mental shit category. He exhales.

' _Fuck it.'_

Closing the distance between them, he lightly presses against Kobayakawa's back. The other teen flinches at the contact but doesn't move away. Instead, she sucks in a deep breath before letting out a choked sob, the action vibrates through Hiruma's body and he closes his eyes as Kobayakawa presses back.

There's a long tense pause.

When Kobayakawa eventually calms, she hesitantly leans back against him, carefully unfolding herself so her spine follows the curve of his own, head thrown back to rest on his shoulder.

Hiruma lets her.

Closing his eyes seems to have an opposite effect on him as thoughts from the past resurface with a vengeance and he wonders, not for the first time, if he made the right choice. Sighing, he hums; something dark yet wistful, just so he can fill in the strange silence that's fallen on them, contemplating.

Strife makes people stronger, wiser, so he knows that when Kobayakawa is no longer chained and caged, the girl will be better than she was before. He knows this. He  _knows_  this.

' _So why the hell does it hurt?'_

* * *

"Ah!"

Standing in front of him, looking as surprised as he feels is the girl with that MAX crazy dog that he ran into not too long ago. He cautiously looks around; sighing in relief when there's no demon dog in sight.

"You…you're from that time. Monta-kun, right?"

He twitches then bursts out. "My name is not Monta!"

The girl blinks, confused. "Eh, really? Did I read the kanji wrong?"

He stills. "Ah, well…my handwriting isn't really all that great so," he laughs sheepishly then introduces himself with a bow. "Raimon Tarō."

"Kobayakawa Sena. It's nice to meet you," the newly introduced Sena says with shy smile, returning his bow.

"You, too. So, uh, I see you're dog isn't here," he chuckles as they both continue walking, occasionally throwing nervous glances around the shopping district they're currently in. He can't stop imagining that the demon dog might pop somewhere.

Sena is quick to reassure him with a shake of her head. "He's not here, don't worry. I really am sorry about before," she apologizes with another bow.

"Aw, don't worry about it; it's in the past now."

Sena looks relieved at that. Then she blinks, like she just remembered something. "Ah, Cerberus isn't mine or anyone else's for that matter. He's more like an accomplice to my very crazy senpai."

He shudders at that. "Seriously? If your senpai is anything like this Cerberus then I hope I won't run into him." He can't imagine someone possibly worse than that dog. MAX scary. Glancing down, he sees a somewhat familiar looking ball resting in Sena's hands. "Rugby training, huh? I admire that kind of dedication."

Sena breathes out a surprised giggle. "American Football, actually. But, yeah. I didn't expect to grow into liking the sport to be honest."

"Why's that?"

Sena shrugs, exasperated. "I got dragged into it by that senpai I mentioned before."

"The MAX crazy one?"

"Yup."

He's not sure what to think of that but Sena doesn't seem like she minds. "That okay with you?"

Sena tosses the football up and down as she seems to thinks over his question before nodding with a smile, honest and fond. "Surprisingly, yeah. Because of it, I've met pretty amazing people…through them, I've experience things I never thought possible and because of that, my world is expanding bit by bit everyday. I'm grateful. No matter how crazy it can be at times."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sounds like you have great friends."

"Yeah…" Sena smiles to herself before she turns to him, looking curious. "What position do you play? Baseball, I mean."

He puffs out his chest. "Outer field. Gonna be the best catching master ever MAX!"

"Catching master?"

"Yup! Just like Honjō-senshu MAX!" he exclaims, pumping a fist into the air.

Recognition flashes across Sena's face. "I think I've heard of him."

"Right? He's so cool, isn't he?" he gushes.

"Y-yeah?" Sena answers bemusedly before suddenly changing the subject. "Um, are you a third year by any chance?"

"Yup, why?" he asks, raising a brow.

Sena shrugs with a shy smile. "Just curious. You looked to be around my age so I was wondering if you've decided on your high school."

"Yeah. I'm going to Deimon," he states then pauses when he realizes that Sena is gaping at him. "What's up?"

Snapping out of her stupor, Sena grins. "Me too! I mean, I'm going to Deimon too!"

He stops walking then shakes Sena by the shoulders, feeling his excitement bubbling. "Seriously?"

"It's true," laughs Sena, mirroring his actions.

They share a laugh together while jumping in place, attracting confused stares from bystanders. When they realize the attention, they hastily continue their walk; occasionally snickering under their breath. To think he'd find a future schoolmate on the way home of all times. Well, it's far better than their first meeting at least.

"This is MAX awesome!"

"Yeah, who would've thought."

Inspired, he whips out his phone then extending it to Sena, face determined.

"Uh…"

Grinning, he explains to the confused brunette staring at his phone looking like she isn't sure what to do in these kinds of situations. "Since we're gonna be schoolmates one day, I thought it'll be even better if we could be friends."

"Y-you want to be friends with…me?"

He doesn't like how unsure Sena sounds. That's odd. From what the brunette said before, she seems to have great friends. Unless he's being too forward...Oops. Feeling embarrassed, he asks to make sure. "Is that okay with you?"

"Y-yeah. Very much," says Sena, grinning wide and bright; looking a bit misty-eyed.

Aw, shucks. Maybe she's not used to having many friends? Now that won't do. "I'm in your care, Sena."

"You too, Mon— Raimon-kun," Sena squeaks, bowing at him. Man, his friend is MAX polite.

"Since we're friends, I don't mind if you call me that. Just Monta, though and no more bowing," he interrupts hastily, stopping the brunette mid bow.

Sena gives a watery laugh, nodding. "I—thank you, Monta."

Giving the girl a thumbs up, he encourages Sena to bring out her phone. For the next minute, they fumble with their phones; laughing and nudging each other as they do.

"So, you heading home?" he asks after they exchange numbers.

"Practice, actually," Sena corrects, tucking her phone into her bag with a smile.

"MAX! You might've been dragged into American Football but your dedication is definitely solid." Not a lot of people have that so it makes his friend even more MAX awesome.

"It doesn't compare to the others but…I hope it can be, one day."

For the rest of their walk, they talk about little things about themselves and their lives, steadily getting comfortable with one another. Strangely, they or well, mostly Sena barely touch on school matters; which makes him suspicious and a little bit worried. He wonders if it's connected to some of Sena's behavior. He hopes not. Before he can try to broach the subject, they find themselves at a crossroad. Literally.

"Looks like this is where we part."

"Seems like it."

Silence and then before he can stop her, Sena bows; looking sheepish and happy. "I'm glad we got to meet again."

"Same here," he nods with an answering grin.

After saying their goodbyes and promising meet ups, they start to go their separate ways. Only Monta hesitates. Glancing back at his friend, he recalls how emotionally tired the brunette seem to be when they ran into each other earlier. Tired and worn out but still have the strength to smile so happily in just making a friend; there's no way he can just walk away!

Monta chases after Sena. "Wait!"

"What's wrong?" Sena asks as he catches up.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Eh?"

"I'm kinda interested about your practice," he says.

Sena looks bewildered. "Are you sure? You'll end up running into Hiruma-san, you know."

"I'm guessing he's the crazy one." When Sena nods in affirmative, he shrugs and answers honestly. "That's alright. More importantly, you look like you need a friend right now."

Monta knows he said the right thing when Sena grins wide. "Alright but I warned you."

"Consider me warned." Though, he sincerely hopes that it's not as bad as he imagines it to be.

While they make their way to Sena's training 'base', the brunette quickly calls up one of her seniors named 'Kurita'; asking permission on bringing in a friend to practice. Thankfully, they get a very enthusiastic positive response to both of their delight. On the way there, Sena takes the time to fill him in about her teammates, doing her best to describe them.

Much too soon, they arrive at the literal army base that Sena told him about, wired fence and all. His friend smiles sympathetically when he gapes at their location. Sena probably had the same reaction.

The inside of the base is as MAX impressive as the outside, if not more but he doesn't have a chance to look anymore than that before they're bombard by two enthusiastic teens that he recognizes based on Sena's description as Kurita and Komusubi. Seeing his friend laughing openly around the other teens uncoils the knot in his belly; knowing that whatever Sena is facing right now, she is safe and happy here.

His musing is cut short when a MAX deafening shot rings out.

"Hoh~ looks like we've got fresh meat." Freezing, Monta turns to see the infamous MAX crazy senior that Sena has been telling him about standing behind their group with a rifle on his shoulder and Cerberus at his feet; looking every bit as demonic as Sena described. Scary to the MAX!

"Wait, Hiruma-san! He's not a new recruit," Sena runs to intercept, subconsciously shielding him from the blond.

Hiruma gives Monta a once over before releasing several rounds on them. "Non-football players aren't allowed in here!"

"Mukyā!"

"Hiruma!"

"C-captain!"

Rushing forward, Sena carefully grasps Hiruma's elbow; staring beseechingly at the older teen; her words tumbling out in a rush. "Please wait, Hiruma-san! Monta is my friend. I promise I'll run more laps to make up for being selfish so, for today...can he please stay?"

For a long moment Hiruma stares at Sena before Monta sees something shift within the blond as he lets go of the trigger. It might be his imagination but for a brief moment he thinks he sees Hiruma's eyes soften slightly when Sena gives the blond a grateful smile.

"Fall in line, fucking monkey."

Flinching at the sudden command, Monta hesitantly steps out of his hiding place behind Kurita when the MAX bullet barrage first rained on them. Looking around, he sees that the others look just as confused.

"Hiruma?" asks Kurita.

Hiruma gives them toothy grin. "Just in case...Make yourself useful, fucking monkey. If you disrupt practice…" A resounding click of his gun is all the warning needed. "Clear?"

Gulping, Monta gives a resolute nod even if his mind squawks at being called a monkey. He came here as Sena's friend so there's no way he's gonna back down now…it's still MAX scary though.

"Crystal to the MAX!"

It's just like Sena told him. This place is crazy to the MAX but he can't deny that meeting Sena's friends was a good choice.

He lets them pull him along in their training; laughing and stumbling and running for their lives with the literal devil snapping on their heels. Strange as it seems, it's like something has fallen into place. He's not sure what it is but he thinks he'll figure it out one day because right now, he's looking forward on making new friends just as passionate as he is when it comes to their favorite sports. It makes him MAX happy.

It's especially worth it when he sees Sena enjoying herself, the shadows in her eyes finally dispersing.

* * *

"Damn."

For the longest moment, Hiruma stares at the carefully wrapped package on the dinning table of his room. He bites back another curse. After he got back from practice, the receptionist of the business hotel he's been living in had called out to fearfully inform him that a package had arrived for him. Considering the date, he is very much aware on who sent the package and why. Every year, he thought to himself on demanding that it'd be sent away or blowing it up into pieces.

He never did.

He takes a breath, holding it so as to keep his simmering temper at bay then slowly exhales through his nose. After a moment's hesitation, he traces his fingers on the package's surface, stopping on the familiar handwriting written across the front—his mind automatically notes the details. Left handed. Sharp, elegant and written with the utmost care.

His father's handwriting.

Raising his other hand, Hiruma fingers the leather cord around his neck as he contemplates his options. He scoffs. Who the hell is he kidding? He knows he made his choice the moment he saw the thing. Picking up the box, he weighs it in his hands experimentally, head cocked to the side. The image in his head isn't complete but he thinks he knows enough to fill in the blanks as to guess what's inside. He bites back a grin.

Unbiddenly, a rush of affection overtakes him even as he feels his temper spiking again. A familiar chaos raging within him.

Making his way to his bedroom, he stands in front of a metal trunk at the foot of his bed. He wretches it open. After a beat he then slowly, carefully places the box with the rest of its brethren and locks it with a quick twist of a wrist. Turning away, he grabs his rifle and laptop then all but strides to the front door. Ripping it open in one ludicrous motion, his fingers clench the wood in a white knuckled grip. His jaw ticks once, twice.

"Fuck."

Then slams it closed behind him with a deafening bang.


End file.
